Gravity
by funnygirl00
Summary: Sherlock returns after a two year absence to find everything changed, even his marriage is dissolved. Sherlock is able to win her heart and hand back, but the drama is far from being gone. Tammy's heart is broken when she discovers that he's been unfaithful to her. Can they find the 'gravity' to make their shaky marriage stable again? Or is it truly ruined forever this time?
1. 1: Didn't you see the movie?

**Ok, this is the fourth instillation of my Sherlock story, which used to be part of 'I won't send roses', but I broke it down and made it easier for everyone to read. It's not overly different from the original, but I have expanded it, added scenes and one whole chapter. It follows the third season of Sherlock.**

**As always, I own nothing except for Tammy, Linda and Sherlock Jr.**

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Chapter One

Didn't you see the movie?

Something was wrong. I had this sick, feeling that something was wrong. I didn't know what it was, but it was just this feeling I had. Today was a slightly depressing day. The idiotic police finally found the proof clearing Sherlock's name and proving that I'd been right. It had taken them over two, bloody, years to prove what I all had ready known.

John had grown a moustache. Mrs. Hudson and I didn't really like it, saying that it aged him. Mary, didn't like it either, but she hadn't gotten the nerve to tell him yet. John told me that he'd gone into Sherlock's flat, and the dust was thickly, covering everything. He'd gone there to make peace and to see Mrs. Hudson; he hadn't seen her in a long time. He revealed to me that he was going to propose to Mary. I was glad he texted me, for I couldn't relay my happiness over the phone when my heart was aching.

_Heaven hold me this feels lonely. A girl might have just one dream that means the world. I asked the waiter, "Can he save her? Or would he leave her there would he want her to stay? Would he pick up all the pieces? Or leave her alone to break?" _

I stood up from my chair, moved around, searching the audience, seeking them out. _Can you tell me what happens in the scene? I think I've watched this one before. Is this the part where you come back for me? Did you read those lines? Did you see how it ends? Won't you come back will you try to love again? _I spotted Charles walking backstage; I lifted my hand and discreetly smiled at him. He waved at me then he continued walking towards the stage. _Say goodbye now I won't cry now. The room is clear the last man just walked out the door. _I wondered where the children were, since he typically watched them. Then, I noticed he held a bouquet of deep pink roses in his hands. My voice almost cracked as I watched him leave my line of vision. _Now I realize what I'm still standing here, waiting for. Can you tell me what happens in this scene? I think I've watched this one before. Is this the part where you come back for me? Did you read those lines? Did you see how it ends? Won't you come back will you try to love again? _

_Didn't you see the movie where he realizes he still needs her? Did you read the story where he chases her down all through town, because she's the best thing he ever had. _My mind actually strayed towards the end scene with Colin Firth where he walks all through the city of...wherever it was to find the woman he loved, with a huge mob behind him. _He ever had. _

That's when; a cold, chilly hand went down my neck and spine. My stomach clenched tightly and my heart rate sped up. I felt these eyes...staring deep into my soul. And I didn't know where. I scanned the club, looking for the source. _Can you tell me what happens in the scene? I think I've watched this one before. _Then, my eyes fell on a tall, dark figure. I couldn't see him directly. _Is this the part where you come back for me? Did you read those lines? _I recognized the shape, vaguely, but I couldn't get a real good look at him, due to the stage lights shining in my eyes. _Did you see how it ends? Won't you come back will you try to love again? Didn't you see the movie? Didn't you see the movie?_

The audience applauded and I bowed, keeping an eye on that figure. After a few moments, I turned and walked off the stage and the figure stood there. I walked quickly down the hall and pushed my dressing room door open. Charles stood up, extending the bouquet of roses towards me. "Hello. Where are the kids?"

"Oh. I asked Amy to come and watch them for an hour. I had to talk to you."

I sat down, accepting the roses. I touched a velvet petal. "It must be serious."

"It is." I looked towards Charles, just as he got down on one knee. My heart jumped and I dropped the roses in surprise. He reached into his pocket, opened up a ring box, revealing a ring with a huge diamond. "Tammy, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

I stared down at him dumbly. I reached down and took the ring from his hand, studying it, before studying the man who was asking me. Tears filled my eyes and I nodded. I was happy, just not...passionately happy about marrying him. It hadn't grown into a passionate love yet, but it could, or so I kept telling myself. "Yes." I said wiping my eyes. "I'd be proud to marry you Charles."

Before Charles could slide the ring on my hand, someone knocked on the door. I jumped and spun towards the door. I stared at the door, for some reason, I knew that there was something huge on the other end of the door.

"Come in." Charles said. He turned and looked at me, finally noticing that there was something wrong with me. ""Tammy? Are you all right?"

"I don't know. I have this...feeling."

Charles stood up as the door creaked open slowly. For a few seconds, the person didn't enter. Then, the man finally entered, keeping his face downwards. I couldn't get a direct look until his face came into full light and when it did, I could only stare at him. I stared at him for several minutes before I jumped up from my chair. I dropped the ring box on the ground, and didn't even give it a second thought or second look.

For standing before me, no, now walking towards me….was the man who'd died two years ago. "Sherlock?" I whispered as my eyes took in the sight of the man who I'd sworn that I'd love forever.

I couldn't move, I don't what angel or mysterious being was holding me up. If this was a ghost, it was a cruel one. But I was reassured that it wasn't a ghost for Sherlock pulled me into his arms, arms that I had missed for so long. I shiver and shake as sobs make their way up from my stomach to my throat. I felt his mouth on my face, my cheek, my neck and then finally my trembling mouth.

Oh merciful heavens! The passion, the chemistry and the magic was so much that it was as if the two years he was absent had never happened. My foolish heart was in a mad rush, instantly forgiving him for every day of his absence. My mind registered that my husband was alive, with me now, and I was in his arms. I started crying hard as a massive, turmoil of emotions surrounded me, joy, relief, shock, passion, confusion, happiness and love.

My legs couldn't hold me up anymore and Sherlock lifted me up and into his arms. "This is a dream." I cried as Sherlock kissed held me close, my arms were clasped tightly about his neck. "My mind….is playing tricks on me."

"I'm here Tammy." Sherlock murmured, breathing into my ear. "I'm here."

I pulled back and looked into his eyes. My eyes narrowed as I took in the sight of the face that I'd been trying to keep out of my mind. Now, he was here, with me again. He'd lost weight, he looked slightly nervous; I could feel the tension in his shoulders. My eyes narrowed as I took in the sight of a bloody lip and a cut on his chin. He had marks around his throat, as if someone had tried to strangle him. His nose was slightly swollen and the small traces of blood informed me that someone had punched him in the nose.

I ran my hand down the side of his face; he closed his eyes, obviously enjoying my touch. "What happened? I asked. "You're bleeding, are you all right?"

"I'm fine." He took ahold of my hand, pressed a kiss to my palm. "John didn't take it as well as you did."

"This is Sherlock Holmes I presume?"

I gasp and my heart freezes in my chest at the sound of Charles's voice. Ice-cold sweat starts to roll down my forehead and down my back as I slowly begin to realize what a big, emotional, mess I was in. while I was overjoyed at seeing Sherlock, I wasn't his wife anymore, or at least I don't think that I was. Charles scowled at Sherlock and Sherlock glowered back at him.

"Yes." Sherlock peered down his nose at Charles, taking advantage of the extra inches that caused him to tower over Sherlock. "Who are you?"

"Put me down." I whisper and Sherlock thankfully, did as I asked.

"Charles Baker."

"Oh," Sherlock studied him. "what are you doing here? You're not a guitar player." His eyes narrowed. "You're a doctor, a child specialist, very ambitious. I can tell by your personal level of grooming that you're a well-recognized figure in the society pages."

"Sherlock." I cut him off. "Not now, please."

Sherlock ignored me. '"In fact, I'd like to know what you're doing in

"I'm her fiancé."

"Charles, don't!" I shouted.

But I was way too late, the words were out, the damage was done. I felt Sherlock's entire body stiffen under my hands. "Her what?!" Sherlock was angry, his rage was barely controlled. "You're mistaken, she's my wife."

I couldn't speak, I held up my hand, showing Sherlock that I'd removed his ring. "It's been two years Sherlock!" I bit out, fighting against the anger that was rising up from my toes to my throat, threating to engulf me and make me look like the human torch. "I moved on with my life."

"What life?" He asked flippantly. "I've been away."

That did it! The fire shot out through my hair and I rounded angrily towards Sherlock, ready to tear him into pieces.


	2. 2: Sorry isn't enough

Chapter Two

Sorry isn't enough

"Charles has been here for me when I needed him! He gave me comfort, love and support when I needed it most! He's wonderful with the children!" I shook with rage. "And you dare to tell me that he's not good enough for me!? You went off for two years around the world and didn't even think of sending me a message!? How dare you! And how do I know that you've been faithful to me?"

"Because unlike you," he said. "I honored _my _marriage vows!"

"You're despicable!" I shrieked. "I thought you were dead! And how dare you say that Charles isn't good enough for me?"

Sherlock didn't hesitate to answer. "He deserves better than you. You'll only break his heart."

"What?" I had almost reached the breaking point.

"You're not good enough for anyone because you're still in love with me." His eyes blazing were blazing with fury. "You never stopped loving me." I let out several aggravated shrieks. "Your first reaction wasn't to faint, scream, or cry. The first thing you did was call my name and hug me. If fact, you returned my kisses, quite eagerly."

"I was confused."

"No you didn't." He stated. "You wanted me back and you know it."

"That's enough, now step away from her." Charles gave Sherlock a shove for good measure before standing protectively beside me.

"She's my wife."

"She was your wife!" Charles shouted. "That was two years ago! You've no claim on her now. What kind of a man are you? Haven't you hurt her enough?"

"I had my reasons. I did what I had to do to protect her."

"You broke her heart in two!" Charles shouted. "Tammy and I have spent hours and hours talking about you. I won't deny that she loved you, but it was obvious to me that you didn't think of her feelings at all when you took off like that!" Charles handed me our engagement ring, but I couldn't slide it on, in front of Sherlock. "When you love someone, you never hurt them."

"I assume that you both think that I did this for my own pleasure. I didn't." Sherlock shook his head. "I knew it would hurt and devastate you Tammy, but I had no other choice."

"Hurt me? Devastate me?" I shook my head. "You killed me Sherlock. I thought that my heart had died."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cover it Sherlock."

"What else can I say?"

"That's just it. Nothing, you can say, will ever be good enough. Nothing can make up for the mental and physical cruelty and anguish that you heaped upon me in those two years. It was like I was losing my mind! Two years! And not once did you think to tell one word! One word! Why on earth couldn't you have at least warned me! Or told me that you were going to vanish for a while and not to worry?"

"Because you would have worried anyway!"

"Damn right I would, but at least I would have known that you were alive. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Believe me Tammy," he said. "I wanted to contact you so many times. I almost broke down on our anniversary, both times and called you. But I thought you'd be unable to keep my death a secret."

"What?!"

"You'd have let the cat out of the bag."

"Oh, so this is my fault!" I screamed. "How is it my fault?"

"Oh for God's sake! You're too emotional! Look at you now! Shrieking your head off! I don't want everyone knowing I'm still alive!"

"Oh, it's still a secret?"

"Yes! It is a secret!"

"Oh! Fine! My lips are sealed!"

Charles took my arm. "Tammy, let's go. You should lie down for a bit. Calm yourself and think this through."

Sherlock was silent for a moment. "Allow me to open your eyes before you get anymore grand delusions." He grabbed the chain around my neck and lifted it, revealing the three rings he'd given me, still on the chain. "Look. She still wears _my_ promise ring, engagement and _my_ wedding ring. Judging by the tan line on her neck, she hasn't taken it off her neck from the moment she took them off her finger. The wrinkles in her skin prove that she's slept in them as well. I daresay if you looked at her breasts, you'd see that there are little bruises from where they've been pressing into her skin at night." I swatted his hand away. I didn't know where to look and I couldn't look at Charles. "You've handed her back her engagement ring, and she hasn't put it on yet. If she were in love with you, she would have put it on to show me that I clearly don't have a part in her life anymore. But she hasn't. It's fairly obvious that she is still in love with me, so do the two of us a favor and get out of her life."

My phone rang and I turned towards it. I lifted it up to see it was from Mrs. Holmes. Desperate to hear a sensible voice, I answered it. "Hello?"

_Tammy? _She sounded so distressed, but she was trying to be strong for me. _"Are you all right?_

"As fine as can be expected." I said shooting Sherlock a glare. "I'm taking it rather calmly, all things considered. I'd really _love _to chop him into a bunch of little pieces!"

Sherlock snorted. "You don't have the stomach for blood."

"Shut up!" I snapped at him. "Just shut up!"

_Tammy, I'm calling for another reason. Not just to warn you about Sherlock being alive. It's more….news involving Sherlock._

I exhaled. "After tonight, I can take anything."

_You two...you're not legally married anymore. _I sank down onto the cot. _Mycroft had all of your marriage papers liquidated, to make things look better. _

"Or to get me to accept his proposal." I murmured. "I haven't forgotten. Thank you. We're...shouting at each other currently, and I definitely needed this information."

_Tammy, try not to be too angry with him. He did it for you._

I wasn't ready to hear this. "I don't believe that." I looked up at Sherlock. "He's the great Sherlock Holmes, he doesn't need anyone and it doesn't matter to him who he hurts as long as he solves every little puzzle. You don't break the heart of someone you love. You don't run out on them for two years, without a word, and then waltz back in as if nothing had happened!"

She sighed. _I'll let you two talk. I'd say goodnight, but there's nothing good about it, is there?_

"For you, yes, your son is alive. Me, I just accepted another man's proposal and my not-so-dead husband walks in the door. Goodbye." I turn the phone off and looked at the two men who were having a stare down, and as usual, Sherlock was winning. "Well, Sherlock, you might want to have a talk with Mycroft about what his motives were when he liquidated our marriage papers." Sherlock blinked in surprise. "We...aren't married anymore." I turned to Charles. "Take me home, now, please."

Charles nodded and took my arm as Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "Why don't I take you?" Sherlock said. "We need to talk about this."

"We'll talk about this in the morning Sherlock." I said. "I'm not up to this anymore. It's a miracle I haven't had a heart attack or collapsed into hysterical sobs."

"Well, I'd like to know why you're acting as if you're not interested in resuming our relationship." I stopped and bit my lip. God! Why was he so dense at times!? "After all, our vows were until death do us part."

"And you _were _dead. So we have parted."

"Come on, Baker Street is only a few minutes away."

"That's just it Sherlock." I said as Charles helped me into my coat. "You don't know anything. I don't live at Baker Street anymore. And I haven't for a few months now."

"Where did you move to then?" Charles and I remained silent, waiting for Sherlock to figure out what we weren't saying. Sherlock's eyes flashed. "You live with him!?"

"We share a flat." Charles spat at him.

Sherlock stared at me. "What? Tammy!" Sherlock swore violently several times and I stared at him. "How could you?" I jumped as he shouted angrily at me. "I've been faithful to you! I come back and find you-

"How was I to know?!" I shouted at him.

"Have you had sex with her?" Sherlock demanded. "If you have, I swear I will-

"He's a gentleman Sherlock!" I shouted as my face heated bright red. "And don't you dare think so low of me!"

"You moved in with him?"

"We haven't been intimate in any way, shape or form! We have separate quarters!" My head ached and I groaned. "I can't take any more of this! I have to see the children and make sure they're all right!"

"Children?" Sherlock said. "What children?"

"Yours!" I shout. "You bastard!" Sherlock looks as if he's about keel over in disbelief. I shocked him. For once in my life I actually shocked him instead of surprising him. Whether it's because of my swearing or the grand announcement that he had children, I couldn't tell. "We had twins, Sherlock. A boy and a girl. I found out I was a month pregnant directly after you jumped."

He shook his head. "Mycroft never said anything."

I laughed. "Why would he? Considering that the very eve I gave birth to your children, he proposed to me!"

Sherlock's head shot up and he frowned. "He what?"

"Your brother, asked me, to marry him." I said, spelling it out slowly for him. "Your death was a good enough excuse to get close to me."

"And did he?" Sherlock asked.

I shook my head. "No, because I was in love with you at the time. After that, I met Charles."

"And you fell head over heels in love with him?" Sherlock said sarcastically. "How romantic."

"No. I didn't."

Charles spoke up. "I was the specialist who examined Tammy afterwards, making sure that she and the babies were all right."

"What are their names Tammy?" Sherlock asked, again, still ignoring Charles.

"Linda May and Sherlock Hamish."

Sherlock made a face. "You named my son after John?"

"Sherlock!" I screamed. "He's my son! He's not yours!" Sherlock stared at me, as if he finally realized how deep he'd hurt me. "You haven't been here for them! You haven't been here for me! Don't put a label on something that clearly doesn't belong to you!"

Charles took hold of my arm. "Come on. Let's go."

"So my plan worked then?" the ludicrous statement of his stopped me in my tracks. I spun around to eye Sherlock. "I got you pregnant Tammy. I was never really gone. You had two reminders of me beside you the entire time."

I couldn't listen to another word from him anymore. I couldn't. I took off running down the hall as if demons were chasing me. Charles and I immediately got a cab, and thankfully, Sherlock _did not _follow after me. My hands shook, I was still crying silently, and I didn't know what to do.

I woke up of my stunned world, when Charles took the ring box from my clenched fist. "I guess I better see if they'll accept a refund." I could only stare at him. He smiles sadly. "I'm sure this happens all the time for them."

"Charles."

"Not a word Tammy." He says quietly. "I saw you. I know."

"You know what?"

"That you're still in love with him." Charles shook his head. "I couldn't compete with a corpse or ghost, how can I compete with him now?"

"We're not married Charles. And I don't know if I can trust him with me or my children. I definitely don't know if I can't trust my heart again. For months, I cried over his death. I defended him publicly and won a lawsuit in his defense! I got shot for his sake!"

"I still would like to know, why he did it." Charles said. "He said he did it for you, but he never said why."

I sat still as daylight broke over me. I didn't know why Sherlock had done it. "Taxi, stop." I said. "Now."

"Tammy?"

"Charles, please, keep an eye on the children." I got out of the taxi. "I'll be back in an hour."

"Where are you going?"

"Scene of the crime." I said. "I'm going to find out why."

"And how?"

"He'll never tell me all of his methods. He'll probably tell me someday, if we're still talking to each other." I slammed the cab door. "Keep an eye on the children for me. I don't trust my dearest possessions to just anyone."

"Thank you Tammy." He said. "But, they're not my possessions. They're his."

"Charles."

"I know what was wrong with us Tammy. I thought…for a time I could honestly make you love me."

"I do care for you Charles. I do, I tried to love you, I swear it."

"And I'm surprised your heart didn't break in the attempt. You did try. But when he came in the door….I saw your face light up and the way you clung to him, I just wasn't enough for you. I never was."

"Then why did you hold up that pretense the whole time in front of him?"

"Maybe, he'll treat you better knowing that he almost lost you to someone else." He smiled faintly. "Good luck."

I leaned through the open window and kissed Charles on the mouth. "Thank you Charles. You're one in a million. And believe me; it's better to be one in a million than one of a million. If you're one of a million, you're nothing special. If you're one in a million, you stand out."

Charles didn't say anything and I stood there, watching the taxi pulled away. I turned and walked briskly towards Baker Street. Tonight, I needed answers. Why? Why had he done that?


	3. 3: You're still you

Chapter Three

You're still you

I pushed the door open to Baker's Street, almost whacking Mrs. Hudson. "Oh!" She jumped. "Tammy! Sherlock! He's-

"I know." I said. "I've come to talk to him again."

"Oh, good luck dear. He's upset."

"Who isn't?" I muttered as I ran up the stairs.

I pushed his door open with a loud bang; Sherlock was in his bedroom, removing his shirt. I stomped towards him, but stopped short as I saw his back. His back, had welts and whip marks, as if he'd been tortured. All my anger whooshed out of me and I walked towards him. Sherlock, as if sensing my presence, paused, not moving.

I reached out, and touched a wound gently. "Your hands are cold." Sherlock murmured.

"What happened to you?" I asked. "You were beaten."

"Lead pipe. Mycroft definitely enjoyed watching it."

"Why?"

"I was wrapping up a mission undercover." He turned towards me. "What are you doing here?"

"I followed you." I stuck my hands in my pockets and shifted uncomfortably. "I've calmed down, somewhat, and I'd liked to talk now."

Sherlock nodded and reached for his shirt, putting it back on. "Ok."

"Don't you have to put something on those cuts?"

Sherlock shrugged. "I've got a salve of sorts; I'll put it on later."

"Get it and I'll put it on." Sherlock didn't offer a protest; he obediently fetched me the small container of the salve. I walked out into the dining Sherlock followed me. "Take off your shirt," I instructed casually. "and I'll apply it." Sherlock nodded and removed his shirt. I dipped a finger in, and rubbed it gently into the marks. Sherlock let out a small groan and I paused. "Does that hurt?"

"No." He said. "It feels wonderful." I frowned, wondering if the medication had a pleasing, cooling effect. "It's been a long time since I've felt your hands on me." His voice rattled my nerves and I paused for a second. "I've missed it. I've missed you."

"Stop it." I stiffened, forcing my guard up around my heart. "Don't try to get around me that way. It won't work."

"Always did."

"And that was before you disappeared for two years, without a word, leaving me to raise your children on my own."

"I didn't know you had the babies," he stated. "how could I know? I had to stay away from London for the time being."

"If Andersen knew that you were alive then the others, who you were hiding from, must be exceptionally dense."

Sherlock frowned. "What does Andersen have to do with this?"

"Oh, he's been telling everyone for months that you're alive. He's even set up a club where people try to figure out how you faked your fall."

Sherlock chuckled. "Andersen would like to know wouldn't he?"

"How did you fake it anyway?"

He tilted his head to the side. "You don't want to know 'why', first?"

I exhaled. "Put your shirt on." I walked over to the sink to wash my hands. "All right, I'd like to know 'why' first, then 'how', if you don't mind."

"I've got all night."

"I don't." I dried my hand towards Sherlock. He left his shirt unbuttoned, hanging open. I had a difficult time focusing on his face. We weren't legally married, but I wanted him, I wanted him near me. I was still attracted to him, dangerously attracted to him. But I had to fight the attraction for the time being. I needed to know where we were going to go from here. I set the rag down on the counter and leaned against it. "So? Explain away."

Sherlock exhaled. "Ok, uhm, Moriarty had to be stopped."

"He made you jump, didn't he?"

He frowned. "Not really. Moriarty's network had to be dismantled. John, Mrs. Hudson, molly and Lestrade were in danger of being killed." I straightened slightly. "He'd hired assassins to take them out."

"And me?" I asked. "What was he going to do to me?"

Sherlock bit his lip. "You don't want to know."

"Yes, I do." I said firmly. "It had better be a good reason."

Sherlock was silent. "You were going to be kidnapped and tortured." My heart stopped as Sherlock continued. "I can't tell you the details."

"Because you don't know them?"

He shook his head. "No. because…it's to…gruesome for you to hear." I frowned at him. "All right. His elements of torture would have included violent forms of rape, chaining you up, beating you, starving you, stabbing you, and drugging you. He told me about how after he'd have his men whip every layer of skin off your body, how you'd be sliced to pieces before being burnt."

"I see." I cross my arms. "He really hated me then."

"He knew I loved you." I dropped my gaze to the floor, but Sherlock stepped forward, tilting my chin upwards. "I still do. I don't know what happened between you and Charles, but I've come to conclusion that I don't want to loose you."

Curse that purring voice of his. Sherlock knew exactly how to break my heart. "Oh, you're a devil." I snarled. "You can twist the heart of a girl with words just as easy as one can break her arm to hurt her."

"Oh stop it with the movie quotes Tammy," he said in that annoyed tone of his. "it's really annoying."

"I am not-

"My fair lady, Audrey Hepburn."

"It was a play before it was a movie and it never crossed my mind! It's just popped out!" The sound of a ringing doorbell startled me. I exhaled, realizing I should be going back to Charles. "I'm leaving."

"Actually, you're staying here."

"We're not married!"

"We _were_ married and I'm not letting you out of my sight again." His intense gaze caused me to pause. "You could call Charles but you're not going to do that."

"And why not?" I demanded.

"Because Charles just dropped the kids off."

I opened my mouth to argue, but I distinctly heard the sound of my babies crying. I hurried towards the door as Mrs. Hudson made her way up the stairs, holding onto each of their hands. Amy was there, carrying their collapsible cribs. I hurried down the stairs. "What's going on?"

Amy shrugged. "Charles told me to bring them down here. There's an emergency at the hospital and I can't stay and watch them. I am so sorry, but I really, must be on my way home. He had me bring their cribs though."

"Mommy." Linda whined, holding her arms out for me.

I knelt and picked her up. "I know. I'm sorry baby. You're tired. I know." I turned to Amy. "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

I glanced at Sherlock; he'd knelt and was glaring at his son, who was glaring back at him. I watched the two of them, silently deducing each other. Sherlock jr. was the first to make a move, and he responding by walking up to Sherlock and latching onto Sherlock's shirt lapels. Sherlock was stunned for a moment, but he did pick up Sherlock Jr. I bit my lip and fought back the tears as I watched father and son together, for the first time. I could see the instant Sherlock fell in love with his son and tears burned my eyes as he hugged him tightly, breathing in his baby scent.

I cleared my throat. "We need to get them set up for bed. Mrs. Hudson, my flat, is it open?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry my dear. I've all ready leased it."

I exhaled. "I see."

"If you find Tammy and I some extra blankets," Sherlock says. "we'll be fine."

I spun around. "I _am not _sharing a bed with you."

"We're sharing the floor." He said turning on his heel and walking towards the bedroom. "And I will not listen to you making any feeble excuses Tammy. Come on."

I groaned and followed him as he grabbed the cribs with one hand and moved into the bedroom. He set Sherlock Jr. down and began setting up the cribs. Sherlock jr. latched onto his father's pant leg and wouldn't let go. Sherlock glowered down at him. "Attachable little thing isn't he?"

I shook my head as I set Linda down. "No, he's a loner. He must know who you are. He is your son after all. He never bonded to Charles like Linda has." I bit my lip before asking. "You didn't know?" I asked. "You honestly didn't know I was pregnant?"

"No, you weren't showing any signs that you were pregnant. Mycroft probably figured correctly that I would have come back here, placing you in immediate danger."

"And you didn't deduce that there was something different about me?"

"I was deducing your body language, not you." He said as he stepped towards me. I jumped slightly as he placed his hands on my waist, I would have pushed away, except he had his eyes closed. I stood there as he brought his hands up my waist. "I can see now. You've lost weight Tammy."

"I've never heard of unhappy people gaining weight before."

His hands ghosted over my breasts and I shivered. "You've matured in some areas, appropriate for motherhood." He opened his eyes and my heart caught in my chest. "But you're still beautiful. Still the same woman I fell in love with."

He wasn't going to make this easy on me. He knew I was a puppet on a string and he controlled me. He knew what strings to pull and I'd go that way. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss on my forehead. I pulled away from him and turned my back. "Finish making the cribs. I'll get the blankets from Mrs. Hudson."

"She's already left them on the counter."

"Then I'll see if she has a nightdress I can borrow."

"You can use my shirt." I paused. "I sleep with my shirt off, speeds up the healing process."

I turned towards him as he undid his shirt and handed it to me. "Thank you. But you _will _keep your hands off me! I mean it!"


	4. 4: Killing me softly

Chapter Four

Killing me softly

I studied myself in the mirror and though Sherlock's shirt fit me loosely, I felt nervous going into the room with just a shirt on. I surveyed my appearance, feeling sick to my stomach. I had lost weight and I didn't feel attractive at all. The shirt was white so my curves were transparent through the material. I folded my clothes and left them on the bathroom counter, turned out the light and walked out of the bathroom.

Sherlock was on a mattress; under the covers and his head shot up the instance I opened the door. Heat flushed all over my body at his gaze.

I shifted uncomfortably, and then I realized that there was only one mattress, room for us both of us. I frowned at the mattress and he immediately began to explain. "Mrs. Hudson had a spare mattress. I made it up." He drew back the covers. "Come on to bed."

I frowned as I moved forward. "I don't know how, but you managed to make that sound quite dirty."

Sherlock smirked. "Maybe it was intended to be dirty."

"The children are here."

"They're asleep. Linda doesn't like me. I think she takes after you in that way."

"She was calling Charles 'Daddy' these past few weeks." I got onto the low mattress, carefully keeping the shirt down around my knees. "She's going to wonder where he went."

Sherlock's eyes studied me, causing me to flush. I got under the blankets, rolled on my side as I tucked the blankets around my chin. I shivered slightly, hating the coldness of the sheets. But I had no alternative besides going to a hotel, but it was almost 2:00 now and I was not in the mood to go find a room.

"Cold?" Sherlock murmured, causing a chill to run down my spine.

"No." I lied smoothly as I curled myself into a fetal position.

My eyes strayed to the only chair in the bedroom, with Sherlock's pants draped over the back of the chair. My heart rate sped up when I realized that he must be wearing only his boxers. It made sense, being the proper dresser that he was; he didn't want to have his only set of trousers wrinkled.

"Mycroft tracked down the warehouse where you put all of my stuff." He said calmly. "It'll be here tomorrow."

"Stone the crows." I said sarcastically. "Lucky for you that I'm a sentimental person. Someone other than me would have thrown everything of yours out. But you'll find everything intact."

Silence reigned for a long moment, and then Sherlock began to speak. "You didn't honestly think that I was dead Tammy? If Andersen could see it, then why couldn't you?" I bit my lip in aggravation. "I told you once that I'd tell you that I loved you one last time on my death bed. I didn't say that when I jumped. Come on Tammy," agitation crept into his voice. "you're clever enough to remember something like that!"

"As a matter of fact, I did think that. Then I see your body falling through the air to the ground below!" I spat at him. "I still remember what you said to me, or have you forgotten?" I spun around and glared darkly at him. "Your exact words were, "I don't love you. If I did, I'd find it easier to say that I loved you. But how can you love someone, when you bought them? I bought you for the price of a wedding band. You wouldn't give me what I wanted, so I married you." Bile churned in my stomach and I flopped onto my side. "Your brother was right; I only married you for sex." I covered my mouth to keep from throwing up. "You're not good for much else." And evidently, I'm glad you did criticize _that_! Since I am so inexperienced in that area as well.

"I didn't mean it." He said as he reached for my hand. I wanted to pull it out of his grasp, but I couldn't. "It hurt Tammy, like a thousand knives have been stuck into my chest. And believe me," he murmured. "you were perfect with me. I love your hesitance; it's part of your charm. It's you; it's your character. And when you actually get a little playful, it never fails to delight and surprise me."

Tears filled my eyes, and I clenched my legs together tightly. I would not allow him to see me cry. "I'm tired."

"Don't you want to know how it was for me?"

"No."

"It was horrible." Sherlock said quietly. "Every night, those words would echo in my head." I bit my lip as he continued speaking. "I missed you. I'd go to sleep at night and realize that I actually missed how you always smelled of Elizabeth Taylor's perfumes. I found out...I missed the stupidest of things. Your tears, the way your eyes that flash when you're upset, the way you hum when you're washing dishes." I bit down on my finger to keep from sobbing. "I remembered...the way you'd laugh. I'd remember the way you felt under my hands, the little whimpers you made when I kissed you." My shoulders began shaking, but he didn't stop. "I'd go to sleep, reminiscing about the way you blushed so on our wedding day, remember, when I sucked the frosting off your finger? And the day I gave you the promise ring? The look on your face and the sounds you were making when I had you trapped against the library wall. I missed the way you'd bite your lip most of all."

"Stop it." I whisper. "Stop it."

Sherlock was silent for a long time. I could feel his eyes studying me intently. I could practically hear his brain clicking madly, trying to come up with the next words to say to me. "Can I hold you?" he asked me quietly. I trembled and bit my lip harder than ever. I tasted blood. "Please?" He leaned over me and ran his hand down my shoulder. I couldn't find the heart to shrug his hand off my shoulder. It just felt…right. "I must hold you for a moment. It's been two years Tammy."

"Sherlock." I tried to sound angry, but the hurt came out of me instead. "Stop it." Sherlock pulled me against him and I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth from his chest against my back. "Don't."

He turned me onto my side, forcing me to look into his face. My weak heart trembled, as I looked into those beautiful eyes of his, drowning in them. I could have sworn that he was sincerely upset about what he'd done to me. He gently ran his hand down my face, causing me to shiver. I started crying as he pressed me against his bare chest. His strong arms circled my waist as he held me tightly in his arms, refusing to let me go. "I love you Tammy."

I shook my head. "No, you don't."

"I love you," he pressed a kiss to my closed eyes. "I love you, I love you."

"Stop saying that." I begged him as he continued kissing every spot on my face. "You don't mean it."

"I do."

"Stop…kissing me." I asked. "Please."

His lips covered mine and my whole body reacted as I felt Sherlock's mouth on mine. I whimpered and he continued kissing me gently. I felt tears run down my cheeks and Sherlock kissed them away. I could hear moans coming from my mouth as I moved in closer to him. I trembled violently as our bodies were pressed completely together for the first time in a two year absence. It was as if our bodies were magnets and they just clicked together, a perfect match and fit.

"God." Sherlock groaned quietly before smothering me in a kiss.

I grabbed a hold of his shoulders tightly, probably inflicting some pain, but I didn't hear Sherlock complain. His hands grabbed my hips and I cried out against his mouth as his hands made their way under the shirt. I whimpered as he rolled ontop of me, pinning me underneath him. My mind immediately began to scream against this, protesting this course of actions. It was too soon, and he was moving _way _to fast for me! But before I could protest, he broke the kiss and pulled away. My heart was thundering madly in my ears and my chest heaved deeply. For a moment, the only things that could be heard were our heavy breathing.

"I'm sorry." I stared up at Sherlock; I was completely shocked by his words. "I'm moving too fast for you."

"You are." I nodded. "Sherlock, it's too soon."

He nodded. "Yeah, and the children are also a few feet away."

I blushed and nodded. When he rolled off me and he turned to give me my distance, I reached out and touched his arm. His head whipped around and he looked down at my hand on his arm. "But, please hold me." I saw a flicker of hope in his eyes as the words left my mouth. "I am cold and I do need you."

"I need you." He said as he pulled me into his arms, resting his head on the crown of my head. "You're the only one I need Tammy."

I exhaled, wrapped my arms around him and closed my eyes, breathing him in deeply. I know, I was being foolish giving into him like this, but I wasn't going to have intercourse with Sherlock. Our marriage had been annulled for us, but I wasn't going to let him get me in that position again. As I drifted asleep, in his wonderful arms, my mind began putting together some terms and conditions.

If Sherlock wanted me, he'd have to have me properly. With his wedding ring on my hand and all the papers in proper order. _But what if he doesn't want to go through all that again? _It was a chance I had to take. If he wasn't willing to prove to me that he would do anything for me, not abandon me or hurt me, he had to prove it to me. If he couldn't, if I was a distraction or anything like that, I'd let him go. After all, when you love someone enough, sometimes setting him or her free was the hardest, but the best thing you could do for them.


	5. 5: Good morning deductions

Chapter Five

Good morning deductions

I awoke to find myself alone again. For a moment, I thought it was all a dream, then I saw I was wearing Sherlock's shirt. I stood up and walked over towards the bathroom, finding my formal dress gone, and my favorite green dress folded in its place. I climbed into my dress, combed my fingers through my hair before exiting the bathroom. Sherlock and Linda were still sound asleep in their cribs so I exited the bedroom shutting the door quietly behind me.

"All very interesting Sherlock," I jumped at the sound of Mycroft's voice, he sounded completely bored, as always. "but the terror alert has been raised to critical."

Sherlock's chair creaked and I could just imagine him, leaning back in his chair without blinking an eye. "Boring. Your move." I fought back a snicker; both of them were playing 'Operation' together. Though which one was winning, I couldn't tell. Some of the furniture had been moved in., chairs and a few tables.

"We have solid information that a terror attack is coming."

"Solid information that a secret terrorist organization is planning an attack. That's not secret. Terrorists do that." Sherlock pointed out. "It's their version of golf!"

I fought back a smirk at that remark. Mycroft, as always, had no sense of humor. "An agent gave his life to tell us that."

Sherlock said smugly. "Hmm, perhaps he shouldn't have done, he's obviously just trying to show off."

"None of these 'markers' of yours is behaving in any way suspiciously?" Another clatter. "Your move."

"No Mycroft, but you have to trust me. I'll find the answer. It'll be in an odd phrase in an online blog or an unexpected trip to the countryside or a misplace lonely hearts add. Your move."

"I've given the prime minister my personal assurance that you're on the case."

"I'm on case?" Sherlock said. "We're both on the case. Look at us right now."

The buzzer went off and Mycroft was peeved. "Oh bugger."

"Whoopsie!" Sherlock said cheerfully. "Can't handle a broken heart. How very telling." Sherlock leaned back in his seat, his eyes finally looking my way. He smiled at me and I smiled back.

"Don't be smart." Mycroft said.

Sherlock inhaled. "That takes me back." His voice went high, imitating a younger Mycroft. "Don't be smart Sherlock. I'm the smart one."

"I _am_ the smart one."

"It made me think I was an idiot."

"Both of us thought you were an idiot Sherlock." Mycroft said smugly settling back into his chair. "We had nothing else to go on until we met other children."

"Oh yes, that was a mistake."

"Ghastly. What were they thinking of?"

Sherlock looked up at me. "Probably something about trying to make friends."

"Oh yes." Mycroft crossed his fingers together. "friends. Of course you'd go in for that sort of thing now."

"And you don't?" Sherlock's voice was pointed. "Ever?"

"If you seem slow to me Sherlock, can you imagine what real people are like? I'm living in a world of goldfish."

"Yes," Sherlock said bringing his hands up together. "but I've been away for two years."

"So?"

"Oh I don't know." Sherlock's eyes darted towards me. I caught the dark glint in his eyes and I knew what was coming. "I thought perhaps you might have found yourself a…goldfish."

"Change the subject." Mycroft ordered as he got up out of his seat. "Now!"

"In a moment," he said standing up and walking towards Mycroft. "I hear you tried to take _my _goldfish." Mycroft's eyes betrayed his nervousness. He turned and looked at me as I walked towards the men, ready to break up a fight, if it was coming. Sherlock advanced towards him. "You took my goldfish, out of my bowl, shook her up and tried to put her in your bowl."

"Well, judging by the fact that she actually let you hold her and kiss her last night, she's jumped back into your bowl without any adverse effects."

"The goldfish would like to say something." I said.

"In a moment." Sherlock and Mycroft stood almost nose to nose. "I know everything, how you annulled my marriage."

"After all you were 'dead' and she was a widow. Those papers had to be taken care of."

"Yes, but you proposing to my wife, when you knew I was still alive. If you ever try anything like that again, I will personally beat you to an unrecognizable, bloody pulp."

Mycroft smirked. "All right."

"No, it's not all right," Sherlock was now threatening him. "if you don't recognize a threat when you hear it, then you're denser than you can possibly imagine. And trust me, mess with what is mine again, and you will be sorry. Do I make myself clear?"

Mycroft nodded. "Very."

"Can, we put this on hold for later?" I asked, attempting to fight the urge to smile at Sherlock's threat. "You two are on a case. Remember?"

"Right." Sherlock took my hand and tugged me towards his chair. "Rest assured Mycroft, whatever this underground network of yours is up to the secret will reside in the exceedingly insignificant or bizarre." Sherlock sat down, tugging me into his lap. I can't refrain from smiling as he wraps his arms around my waist. He drums his fingers impatiently on my hip before looking up at me. "Good morning."

"Good morning."

Sherlock leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. I leaned into the kiss, smiling against him, relishing the magic of his kiss that I'd missed for so long. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against mine. "I missed this too."

I smiled. "As did I."

"Yoo-hoo." Mrs. Hudson called as she came into the room with a breakfast tray.

"Speaking of which."

"Shut of Mycroft." I said.

"I can't believe it." Mrs. Hudson gushed happily. "I just can't believe it. Him, sitting in his chair again."

I nodded. "I can barely believe it myself."

"Believe me," he murmured. "you'll believe it."

"Oh, and you sitting his lap Tammy. You two always made such a lovely couple. Sherlock, he tried so hard not to show how crazy he was about you. But he's not holding anything back now." I blushed as he ran his hand down my back. She tilted her head to the side. "But what about that Charles fellow?"

Sherlock's hands stilled and I shifted uncomfortably. "He broke up with me last night, actually. He wanted to give Sherlock an even chance."

He snorted. "Of course you're going to choose me."

"Don't bet on it." I whispered. "We still have more talking to do."

He shrugged. "It's obvious you're going to pick me. Last night was a very good indicator."

"Shut up."

He nodded and turned to Mrs. Hudson as she addressed Mycroft. "Isn't it wonderful Mr. Holmes?"

"I can barely contain myself."

"Oh, he really can you know."

"He's secretly pleased to see you underneath all that."

"Sorry, which of us?"

"Both of you."

"Let's play something different!" Sherlock said clapping his hands together. He stands up, nudging me to the side and I move to perch on the armrest.

"Why are we playing games?" Mycroft asked.

"Well, London's terror alert has been raised to critical; I'm just passing the time." Sherlock stood up. "Let's do deductions." He picks up a ridiculous, bobble hat with earflaps and dangly pom poms. "Client left this while I was out. What do you reckon?"

He tosses it to Mycroft, who catches it. "I'm busy."

"Oh, go on. It's been an age."

Mycroft sniffs the hat. "I always win."

Sherlock smirks. "Which is why you can't resist?"

I lean forward as I watch brother vs. brother take off in their game of deduction. "I find nothing irresistible in the hat of a well-traveled, anxious, sentimental, unfit creature of habit, with appalling halitosis." He looks up and notices Sherlock's grin. "Damn."

"Mind the language, Tammy hates it." He catches the hat, which Mycroft tosses back at him. "Isolated, too, don't you think?"

"Why would he be isolated?"

"He?"

"Obviously."

"Why?" Sherlock asked. "Size of the hat?"

"Don't be silly. Some women have large heads too." Sherlock glowers at Mycroft's insult to his intelligence. "No. He's recently had his haircut. You can see the little hairs adhering to the perspiration stains on the inside."

Sherlock pouts. "Some women have short hair, too."

"Balance of probability."

"Not that you've ever spoken to a woman with short hair or, you know, a woman."

Mycroft glowers at him. "Stains show he's out of condition, and he's sentimental because the hat has been repaired three, four-

Sherlock catches onto to Mycroft's mistake. "Five times." He throws the hat back to Mycroft. "Very neatly. The cost of the repairs exceeds the cost of the hat, so he's mawkishly attached to it, but it's more than that. One, perhaps two, patches would indicate sentimentality, but five? Five's excessive behavior, obsessive, compulsive."

"Hardly. Your client left it behind. What sort of an obsessive compulsive would do that?" He throws the hat back to Sherlock. "The earlier patches are extensively sun-bleached, so he's worn it abroad, in Peru."

"Peru?"

"This is a chullo, the classic headgear of the Andes. It's made of alpaca."

Sherlock smirks. "No."

"No?"

"Icelandic sheep wool. Similar, but very distinctive if you know what you're looking for. I've written a blog on the varying tensile strengths of different natural fibers."

"I'm sure there's a crying need for that." Mrs. Hudson comments as she comes into the room with a teapot.

Sherlock pauses for a moment, and then turns back to Mycroft. "You said he was anxious."

Mycroft nods. "The bobble on the left side has been badly chewed, which shows he's a man of a nervous disposition but-

Sherlock talks over him. "But also a creature of habit because he hasn't chewed the bobble on the right."

"Precisely."

Sherlock sniffs the hat. "Brief sniff of the offending bobble tells us everything we need to know about the state of his breath. Brilliant!"

"Elementary."

"But you've missed his isolation."

"I don't see it."

"Plain as day."

"Where?"

"There for all to see."

"Tell me."

I frown as I watch the two men, a mixture of amusement and frustration in me. I didn't see it either and I wished Sherlock would just spit it out! "Plain as the nose on your

"_Tell_ me." Mycroft demands, unable to stand it any longer.

Sherlock turns back to him. "Well, anybody who wears a hat as stupid as this isn't in the habit of hanging around other people, is he?"

"Not at all." Mycroft frowned. "Maybe he just doesn't mind being different. He doesn't necessarily have to be isolated."

"Exactly."

"Mycroft blinks several times. "I'm sorry?"

Sherlock looks at him. "He's different, so what? Why would he mind? You're quite right." He puts the ridiculous looking hat on top of his head, and then looks Mycroft. I can't help but laugh at the funny picture he made. "Why would anyone mind?"

Mycroft appears to refrain from laughing, but manages to speak somewhat soberly. "I'm not lonely, Sherlock."

Sherlock steps towards him and asks quietly. "How would you know?"

A wail from the room caused me to get up. "They're awake. I need to go."

It was Linda; she was standing up in her crib, probably curious about her new surroundings. Sherlock was all ready desperate to enjoy every nook and cranny, so I set him down while I dressed Linda. Both of them had reached that stage in their life where they wanted to get dressed on the own. Sherlock tried, but he always got something wrong. I'd just finished dressing them both and was getting ready to go out when my phone rang.

A glance at the caller ID told me it was John. "John!" I said as I turned my phone onto speaker. "Hello. How are you doing?"

_I'm fine. Tammy….are you aware that_

"Sherlock's alive?" I begin dressing Linda. "Yes. I know, John."

_How are you doing? Is Charles taking this all right?_

I exhaled. "You won't believe this John. But, Charles and I broke up last night." At his long pauses I added. "He ended it actually."

_Where are you now? You need anything?_

I sighed. "John…I'm actually…back with Sherlock."

_WHAT!?_

"Look, John, I know you're upset."

_I'm surprised you're taking this so calmly! Good God Tammy! He abandoned you and your children, and after one night you're back together again!_

"We aren't really back together!" I said. "I'm not even sure what we are. Mycroft had our marriage dissolved."

_Well, that's one smart thing he did then! Makes me sorry I punched him!_

"John," I asked quietly. "please, try to understand. I know it's hard for you, but it's hard for me too. He was my husband, he's the father of my children and he also happens to be the man that holds my heart."

_He doesn't deserve it Tammy. He doesn't deserve your love or loyalty._

I nodded. "I agree John. On the day your medical profession has come up with a drug that stops someone from falling in love, that's the day I'll stop loving him. I tried, you know I did."

_And you can't just try harder? What about Charles?_

"He was never enough John. He tried, as did I. We are both sedate people, but there's this other side of me, there's this….incredible burning, passion that was always left wanting when we were together. Only Sherlock could fulfill it. I'm sorry John, but, this is where my heart lies. You know that."

_So, you're actually going to go back to the way things were? Him ignoring your feelings, and what if he has an urge to just take off again?_

"I know why he did John, and I accept his reason, but not his excuses for not telling me. Please, it's hard enough as it is. I'm still not sure what's going to happen between us yet. We haven't talked about what I'm going to do yet. I don't know if we're going to get married again or not. Then there are the children to consider and all of these have got to be put on hold for a while because there is going to be a terrorist attack on London and he's got to help out." I added gently. "He needs your help John."

_Sorry Tammy. I can't do that. And he doesn't need anyone's help._

"Everyone needs help John." I say quietly. "Even Sherlock."


	6. 6: Fish and chips

Chapter Six

Fish and chips

Sherlock glowered as the children wandered around the flat exploring. "Are you sure it's normal that they fall down at this stage?"

"Yes, it is Sherlock." I picked up the plates and moved towards the sink. A clatter made me turn to see Sherlock was actually picking up the remaining dishes. I frowned as he approached me. "What are you doing?"

"I thought you could use a hand."

"Thank you."

I plunged my hands into the warm, soapy water and began washing them. I felt Sherlock's hands go around my waist and I froze. He leaned forward and nuzzled my neck. My heart fluttered in my chest, and I had to get out of this. He was luring me under his spell again, and I didn't even know where we stood.

I slammed the dish down. "Just stop it!" I stepped away, spun around and faced Sherlock, who looked confused. "You've been gone for two years Sherlock. Do you really expect me to just let everything go back to normal?"

He frowned at me. "I said I was sorry."

"Sorry doesn't always cover everything." I pointed out. "Do you know how much a Hell...you made my life?"

"I could try, but I know I'd be far off."

"You...were haunting me." I said. "I-I'd dream that you were with me." He stepped towards me. "I'd see you and you weren't there. Once, I'd dreamed that," I blushed to confess it, so I studied the floor. "that, you made love to me once, before leaving me again."

"I did."

I stilled and looked at him. "What? What are you saying?"

"I asked Adler to drug you so I could have you one more time." 'Have you,' another thing about Sherlock I loved, the Victorian terminology for making love. "And it was me you'd seen in the graveyard."

I stared at him in shock. "Why? Why did you do that?"

"I wasn't sure if you were pregnant or not, and I wanted to attempt to give you a baby before I left. I wasn't sure how long it would be before I'd ever see you again. Not to mention, I wasn't sure if it was even successful in impregnating you. You weren't showing any signs when I left." His eyes narrowed. "And before you begin to wonder, nothing happened with Adler, I just called in her IOU and she was happy to help."

"You...you weren't a dream then?"

He stepped towards me. "Do you remember what I said to you?"

I nodded and whispered. "Yes...I remember."

He cupped my face in his hands, his long fingers tangling themselves in my hair. "Do you still love me?" I bit my lip. "Please say you do. I never stopped. I couldn't go on living if I thought that you hated me."

Tears flowed down my cheeks as I nodded. "Damn you Sherlock," his eyes widened in surprise. "I wish I didn't still love you." I really shouldn't be admitting things like this to him so soon. But lying wasn't one of my strengths and I'm afraid my heart just couldn't stop beating for him. I cried as Sherlock pulled me close to him. "I'm a terrible, wicked woman."

"Oh shut up Tammy." He said. "Don't say things like that."

"I can't believe this." I snapped at him. "And don't you ever tell me to shut up again! You do that too often!"

"I'll try, but when you start degrading yourself, I will tell you to shut up."

"What else do you call a woman who breaks a wonderful man's heart like Charles?"

He groaned. "Will you please shut up about Charles? I'm here with you, not him!"

Sherlock kissed me deeply and I groaned as I drowned in his kiss. But when Sherlock's hands wandered down to my hips and I pushed his hands away. "But I won't allow you Sherlock, to take liberties with me."

He tilted his head to the side. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"If you want me Sherlock," I stated calmly. "you're going to have to win me back."

"What!" He looked outraged. "Why should I do that?"

I pulled away from him and walked over to the other side of the counter, where I was out of his reach. "Because, I am not going to make it that easy for you."

"Oh for God's sake, Tammy. I had no choice!"

"And you couldn't have texted me once in a while to say you were all right? I had your phone! You couldn't have had Mycroft tell me what was going on!?"

"I didn't want to take any chances. And I really didn't want Mycroft telling you anything."

"Right. And I'm not taking any chances that you want me for sex, as you told me before jumping!"

"I didn't mean it Tammy. I didn't mean _anything _that I said to you."

"Then prove it to me!" I snapped at him. "When you get my guard down, don't initiate making love to me!" Then, inspiration hit me. "In fact, you will treat me with utmost respect, like I demanded when we were engaged."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "Tammy."

"I am not finished yet! You are going to go sleep on the couch!" Sherlock's face was priceless. "You are only allowed to hold my hand, kiss my mouth or cheek and you _will_ behave! Then you will propose-

"I all ready did all that!"

"You're going to propose again!"

"Are you serious?!"

"And, if you'd like to, we will get remarried! Mycroft had our marriage license and every other document declared invalid to make it look real! So you can't get out of that!"

Sherlock exhaled. "For God's sake Tammy, that's a lot of trouble when we're going to get married again."

"Are we?" I asked solemnly.

He frowned. "Well, obviously we are."

"You tell me Sherlock." I said. "I'm a fool, I'm an idiot, and I still happen to be deeply in love with you. But I am not going to open myself up to a life of torture. If you want me, then you will prove it to me, as I asked. When we courted, you reassured me that you loved me, but you never proved it to me. If you can't, then, please, I beg you, let us part friends." Sherlock straightened and he crossed his arms, studying me intently. "You will stop following me, I will get rid of everything I have connected with you, you will sign over your parental rights to me and I will make a new life for myself. You can go back to living your own life, you don't have to worry about me, the children and you can go on and be your typical, smart arse, free self. All things considered, after all I've gone through these two years, I'm not asking too much."

"Do you want to marry someone else?"

"No, I don't. I'm giving you a chance here Sherlock. A chance to back out."

"Or a chance for yourself?" He asked. "If you loved me-

"I do love you. But if the children and I are going to be a distraction to your work and you can't include us in your life, no matter how dangerous it is, then maybe it would be best to cut you free. I do love you, and it will kill me to do this again, but I've gotten used to walking around in this haze and I think, I could do it again….if I had to."

Sherlock was silent for a long time, and then he spoke. "I will do as you ask."

"And...which option is that?"

Sherlock stepped towards me, took my hand and kissed my ring finger. "I'll court you again." I stared at him. I hadn't expected him to make up his mind that quick around me. "But, may I make three requests?" I nodded hesitantly. "One, you don't bite your lip around me."

I smiled against my will. "I'll try."

"If you do, I can't be responsible for my actions." I nod my head and blush. "Tomorrow, you will move back into Baker Street."

I nodded. "Ok."

"Three...you will consider letting us continue sharing the bed." I hesitate. "It's been two years Tammy. If I'm not going to be allowed to do anything that a husband should be allowed to do to his wife, at least allow me the nights of feeling you close to me and one morning with you in my arms."

I shouldn't give into him, but it had been two years and I wanted to feel him beside me as well. I nodded. "All right. But, if you slip up once, you're out on the couch."

The day was very busy for me. The rooms had to be dusted, vacuumed and everything put back into place. Sherlock asked Molly to fill in for John for the day and she agreed to do it. He had three cases today.

One involved a Mr. Harcourt and all of his money had been emptied out a bank account. But Sherlock deduced that the man had emptied money because he was having an affair. The signs that proved it to him were his weight loss, hair dye, and the Botox injections.

The second involved a girl's stepfather posing as her online boyfriend. He then broke off the relationship, broke her heart, so she'd swear off relationships, stay at home and he collects her wage coming in. Sherlock was unusual in that case. He was kind and sympathetic towards her. Then, he turned over a new leaf and completely cursed out the father. Sherlock jr. used one of his father's words and both Sherlock's were thoroughly and completely reprimanded.

The third mystery, Greg dubbed 'the skeleton mystery.' Evidently, in a basement there was a wooden desk and seated behind the desk was a skeleton dressed in a suit. And the corpse was holding a syringe in its skeletal hand.

I had all the furniture placed in their proper home and it was just beginning to get dark when my phone rang. I glanced at it, and it was Sherlock calling. I frowned as I answered cautiously. "Hello?"

_Tammy? Hi, everything ok?_

"Yes you just…don't call me. How was the case?

He groans. _A fake, not worth my time. I was wondering if you'd fancy some chips?_

"What?" I asked.

_I know a fantastic fish shop just off the Marylebone Road. The owner always gives me extra portions._

I giggled lightly. "Did you get him off a murder charge?"

_No, I helped him put up some shelves. I can imagine that you're quite tired, so how about it?_

"Ok. Thank you, that sounds lovely."

_How are the kids?_

"Fine. They've been coloring up a storm." I turned around in time to see Sherlock take a red crayon to his father's desk. "Sherlock! I scolded. "Don't do that!"

_Don't do what? I'm nowhere near you!_

"Not you Sherlock, your son, Sherlock." I took the crayon and shook my head. "No. Don't do that."

_Again, don't do what?_

"Sherlock just colored a bloodstain on your desk."

Sherlock laughed. _I see. Well, I'll be home soon._

"All right. Goodbye."

_Bye. I won't forget the extra salt on your chips either. _He hangs up on me before I can say something else.

40 minutes later, all four of us were eating our fish and chips in silence. Sherlock sat beside me, studying me from the corner of his eye. "You really have things looking back to normal." He said. "And you'll soon have the flat above open."

I frowned. "Mrs. Hudson has leased it."

"Yes, but the man had an illegal stash of drugs."

"So you threatened to turn him in unless he vacated, correct?" he nodded. "You devil." I licked the pad of my thumb and looked up to see Sherlock studying me. "What?"

"Nothing." He said quietly. "Do you know that you bite your finger before licking it?"

I flushed. "I-I guess so."

He leaned forward and took my hand. "I'm making you nervous again, aren't I?" I nodded and he smiled. "In case you don't know…you look positively adorable, when you're nervous." The doorbell buzzed and Sherlock frowned. "What is it?"

He stood up and walked towards the door, still clutching his chips. It was then that I heard Mary's voice filter up the stairs. "Sorry, I-I think someone's got John, John Watson."

I stand up and follow Sherlock towards the landing. "Mary? What's wrong?"

Mary pulls her phone from her pocket and shows it to Sherlock. "Someone sent me this. At first I thought it was just a Bible thing, you know, spam, but it's not. It's a skip-code." She shows him the message.

"What's a skip code?" I ask, unable to see the screen.

"First word, then every third." Sherlock said. "Save ... John ... Watson."I gasp quietly and I watch as Sherlock's expression changes. His face becomes gravely concerned and his tone changes to urgent. "Now!" He drops his chips on the ground and he races down the stairs with Mary and me following.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"St James the Less." He says. "It's a church. Twenty minutes by car."

"Mrs. Hudson!" I call. "John's in trouble, could you please watch the children?"

"Yes dear! Be careful!"

I run outside to find Sherlock pacing in the middle of the road. "It's too slow. It's too slow." He is so concentrated on the task at hand that he's oblivious to the approach of a car.

"Sherlock!" I call.

He ignores me and the car swerves around him and the driver blares his horn. Mary is frantic. "Sherlock, what are we waiting for?"

"This." He steps directly into the path of the approaching motorcycle and holds up his hand. The driver slams on the brakes and the bike skids to a halt. Sherlock abruptly explains that he needs their motorcycle because of a life and death situation. I see a taxi and I hail it. Sherlock shouts at me. "You stay at home Tammy!"

"John's in trouble!"

"It's going to be dangerous!" He shouts as he pulls the helmet on his head. "You need to stay home and watch the kids!"

"Sherlock!"

He grabs me by the shoulder, orders the taxi away and shakes me. "Tammy, promise me that you will be home waiting for me. Promise me!"

Instantly, my fight leaves me. "I promise." Sherlock kisses me quickly before vaulting onto the bike and zooming down the street with Mary behind him. I covered my mouth and hurried back into the house. My phone went off and I answered it. "Yes?"

_Tammy? _It was Charles. _Is everything all right?_

"I'm fine…it's John. Something's happened to him. He's in danger."

_I'll be right there. I promise._

He hung up on me and my phone went off again in my hand. I answered it and shrieked. "What!?"

_Sorry. _It was Molly. _I'm sorry._

"Molly, no I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. John's in trouble, Sherlock's gone after him and I'm worried. I'm so, so sorry."

_Oh, I-I understand. Look, I'm just around the corner. Mind if I come by?_

"Please do, I should be ever so grateful for the company."


	7. 7: The game is back on!

Chapter Seven

The game is back on!

"Tammy," Molly says gently. "please, sit down. You're going to wear yourself out."

"I can't!" I snap at her. "What is he doing!? It's been an hour and he hasn't called or texted me once! Not once!" I touch my phone to wake it up and it dies. I groan and shake the blasted phone. "And now my phone dies!"

"Calm down," Charles says. "why don't we discuss the furniture of yours that needs to come back?"

"Can you just hold onto it for a day?" I asked as I pointed to the flat above. "This guy is moving out again, because he's doing illegal drugs that no one knows about." Molly and Charles jump in surprise. "So, I'm getting it back any day now."

"Have you reported him?" Charles asked.

"No. Feel free if you'd like to do so!"

Charles glances down at Molly's hand. "I guess I should offer my congratulations."

I frown and it's then that I notice the diamond ring on her hand. A shame. Molly and Charles, they did make a lovely couple and it would have been a perfectly ideal situation for all involved. They were natural together; Charles had won her over with his manners and cultured sense of humor. He actually had gotten her to laugh a few times!

"How'd you meet," I asked. "at work?"

"He's not from work." She says with a quiet laugh. "We met through friends, the old-fashioned way. He's nice. We….he's got a dog ... we go to the pub on weekends and he... I've met his mum and dad and his friends and all his family." She blushes and glances down at her hands. And I've no idea why I'm telling you this."

"To try and distract me and it _almost _worked. Ohh, what is taking so long?" The door below opened and I flew towards the landing, I peered over the rail as Sherlock came trotting up the stairs. "Oh, thank God!" I came down the stairs and launched myself into his open arms. He smelled of fire and burnt wood and I noticed his hair was a little singed. "Are you all right?" I asked as I pulled back to examine him. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine." He reassured me. "John is too. Mary's taking him to the hospital. He's got a cut on his forehead, but that is all."

"Why do you smell like you were in a burning building?"

He wrapped his arm around my waist and we continued up the stairs. "Someone drugged John and buried him under all the kindling of a bonfire. I pulled him out. We're both fine, Mary's with him, if you want to text her."

"My phones dead." I frowned at him. "Why didn't you text me?"

He shrugged. "In the madness we grabbed the wrong phones and I've no clue what your passcode is on it."

I smirked. "You honestly don't know?"

He shrugged. "No, I don't."

I smile. "Think of David Cassidy and one of his songs, and that's the passcode."

"Why do all of your passwords have to do with songs?" He makes a face. "Your last one was Glen Miller's Pennsylvania 6500!"

"And since I know my music, you're going to have to figure out my passcode."

"Or," he said catching a hold of my arm and pulling me into his chest. "I could persuade you to tell me."

"No you couldn't." he leaned forward and kissed my pulse point on my neck. I smile, shiver and wrap my arms around his neck. "Not working so well." I tease him quietly. "There was a time when you could melt me into butter but, now," I was going to pay for those words. Sherlock's hands slid down to my hips, he lifted me up and thumped me into the wall. "that might work."

I grabbed onto his shoulders as he nudged my legs around his waist. I gasped as his hand slowly crept up my thigh and I twitched against him. He smirked as my eyes widened as I tried hard not to notice his desire for me. He then thrust hard against me and I let out a yelp.

He smirked darkly. "Must be doing something right."

"Sherlock," I croaked as I unwrapped my legs from his waist. "Molly and-

Sherlock cut me off with a kiss and I groaned. The door to our flat opened and I pushed at him and shook my head. "Knock it off Sherlock. We're supposed to be taking it easy, remember?"

He laughs. "You started it."

"I did not!"

He snorts and we turn to see Charles in the doorway. He definitely looked uncomfortable. "Sorry." He said. "We heard a sound."

Sherlock frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"He _and _Molly were keeping me company while you were saving John's neck." I stepped away from him. "Anyone up for a game of Chinese checkers?" Sherlock snorted. "And Sherlock will take it easy on everyone."

"Fine." He reached for my MP3 player and speaker and began browsing through it while we set up the game board. Linda tripped and Sherlock caught her. "Easy princess."

She made a face and moved towards Charles. My heart rate escalated as she grabbed onto his leg and patted him. "Daddy."

I looked at Sherlock. He was hurt, of course, but he hid it well. Charles picked Linda up, walked over to Sherlock, and placed her in his lap. Linda let out a small wail and Sherlock made a face. "Maybe you should hold her."

"Nope." I said as I talked soothingly to her. "I know, I know its confusing baby, but this is your daddy. It's always been." I turned to Charles. "I'm so sorry."

He shrugged it off easily. "It's ok."

Linda pushed off of Sherlock's lap and moved towards the bedroom. I exhaled. "She's a little young to have her heart broken."

"Great practice for when she gets older." Sherlock comments as he turns my music on. He takes my legs, swings them into his lap and rubs my knee. I frown at him, then my mouth drops open as Billy Currington's rough, country voice fills the room with 'must be doing something right', I shake my head at Sherlock. He smirks. "Your move."

I groan and try to concentrate on the game. But from the looks he was giving me, it was going to be a long night.

* * *

_The following morning,_

* * *

"Which wasn't the way I'd put it at all, silly woman. Anyway, it was then that I first noticed it was missing. I said, "Have you checked down the back of the sofa?" I smile as Sherlock makes a face, his patience running thin. Mrs. Holmes looks towards Mr. Holmes. "He's always losing things down the back of the sofa, aren't you?"

"I'm afraid so."

Sherlock glares at me from his seat as his mother continues talking. I blew him a kiss before concentrating on where Sherlock and Linda were trying to do a puzzle. They both got mad at me whenever I touched a piece, so I concentrated on making sure that they didn't chew on the pieces. Mrs. Holmes was so excited about their trip to London that she'd chatted incessantly for the last hour.

"Keys, small change, sweeties, especially his glasses. I said, "Why don't you get a chain, wear 'em round your neck?" And he says, "What like Larry Grayson?"

Sherlock gets up, buttons his jacket and walks towards them. "So did you find it eventually, your lottery ticket?"

He steps onto the coffee table and then onto the sofa between his parents. Sherlock starts idly flicking through the paperwork stuck to the wall. One of these days, that table is going to snap in two under his weight. Tables weren't made to hold people, no matter how light they are!

"Well, yes, thank goodness. We caught the coach on time after all. We managed to see St Paul's, the Tower, but they weren't letting anyone in to Parliament." Sherlock frowns down at her. "Some big debate going on."

The front door opens and John walks in. Sherlock turns and stares at John in surprise. "John!"

"Sorry, you're busy."

Sherlock steps off the sofa and pulls his mother to her feet. "No, no, no, they were just leaving."

"Oh, were we?" Mrs. Holmes asks.

"Yes." Sherlock says pointedly. "Go. Bye."

"Yeah, well, we're here 'til Saturday, remember."

Yes, great, wonderful. Just get out." He immediately begins to herd his parents out the door.

"Well, give us a ring."

"Very nice, yes, good, get out." As he tries to close the door, Mrs. Holmes sticks her shoe into the doorway to stop him from shutting the door. Sherlock glowers down at her foot.

"I can't tell you how glad we are, Sherlock. All that time people thinking the worst of you."

Sherlock glances back at John, as I approach him. "Hello John."

He shakes my hand. "Hi."

"Do want anything? Some water? Cup of tea?" I see his wound, which is still bleeding lightly. "Aspirin?"

"No thanks. I'm fine."

We're just so pleased it's all over.

Sherlock tries to slam the door on Mrs. Holmes foot, but she refuses to budge. "Ring up more often, won't you?" Mr. Holmes asks. "She worries."

I approach Sherlock from behind as Mrs. Holmes asks. "Promise?"

I swat Sherlock on the behind; he lets out a surprised shout and spins around and looks down at me. "Did you just-

"He promises." I said. "In fact, I'll make sure he calls you two every other weekend."

"What?" He whines.

"And he promises." I turned and shot him a look. "Right?"

He glowers at me and nods. "Promise." Mrs. Holmes reaches up to stroke his cheek. Sherlock glowers. "Oh, for God's sake!" He shoves the door closed and lets out a deep sigh before turning to John. "Sorry about that. Just my parents in town for a few days."

"No it's fine."

"You're so rude." I say as I turn back to where the children are playing. "You really are a bad son at times."

"Mycroft promised to take them to a matinee of "Les Mis". Tried to talk me into doing it."

"And Tammy wasn't interested in going?"

Sherlock shook his head. "No, she's still in love with that Ramin Karimloo."

"You're just jealous." I say.

"I don't know what she sees in him, that man's ancient now." John and Sherlock make eye contact for a second, then John looks down. Sherlock finds the words to speak first. "See you've shaved it off, then."

"Yeah." John nods. "Wasn't working for me."

"I'm glad."

"What, you didn't like it?"

Sherlock smiles. "No, I prefer my doctors clean-shaven."

"It's not a sentence you hear every day!" John moves towards his old chair and sits down in it, grunting a little. He's probably sore from last night. The atmosphere is a little awkward between them, but one can sense that it's not going to last long.

"How are you feeling?"

"Yeah, not bad, a bit smoked."

"Right."

John looks at him seriously. "Last night, who did that?" Linda walks over and pats John's leg. He picks her up and talks over her head to Sherlock. "And why did they target me?"

"I don't know."

"Is it someone trying to get to you through me?" John asks. "Is it something to do with this terrorist thing you talked about?"

"I don't know. I can't see the pattern. It's too nebulous." He walks towards his 'Wall of Informative Rats' as I've dubbed it. "Why would an agent give his life to tell us something incredibly insignificant? That's what's strange."

John asks. "Give his life?"

"According to Mycroft. There's an underground network planning an attack on London, that's all we know." he gestures to the paperwork on the wall. "These are my rats, John."

"Rats?"

My markers, agents, lowlifes, people who might find themselves arrested or their diplomatic immunity suddenly rescinded. If one of them starts acting suspiciously, we know something's up. Five of them are behaving perfectly normally, but the sixth-

John points at one of the photos "I know him, don't I?"

"Lord Moran, peer of the realm, Minister for Overseas Development. Pillar of the establishment."

"Yes!"

"He's been working for North Korea since 1996."

"What?"

"He's the Big Rat, rat #1. And he's just done something very suspicious indeed."

John sets Linda aside and he approaches Sherlock. I smile as I watch the two men. The game is on and the world had better look out for Watson and Holmes are together again!


	8. 8: The million dollar decision

Chapter Eight

The million dollar decision

Later, Sherlock is showing the footage of the mysterious train disappearance to John. "Yeah, that's ... odd." John asks. "There's nowhere he could have got off?"

"Not according to the maps. There's something, something, something I'm missing, something staring me in the face."

His phone beeps and he takes it out of his pocket. I frown. "Did all the carriages arrive?" I ask. "I remember watching this movie once where someone disconnected a train carriage and it had dynamite in it. Don't ask me the title, it was an old western and after awhile they all look the same."

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!" Sherlock shouts happily. "I've been an idiot, a blind idiot!"

"What?" John asks.

Sherlock beings pacing across the room, excitedly. "Oh, that's good. That could be brilliant." He kisses me on the forehead. "You're on your best when you don't know too many details. I think I'll keep you around."

"Flattering." I cross my arms and frown at him. "Now what are you on about?"

"Mycroft's intelligence, it's not nebulous at all. It's specific, incredibly specific."

John asks. "What do you mean?"

"Not an underground network, John. It's an _underground_ network."

"Right," John says. "what?

"Sometimes a deception is so audacious, so outrageous that you can't see it even when it's staring you in the face." He leans over to replay the footage. "Look, seven carriages leave Westminster ... but only six carriages arrive at St James's Park." He claps me on the shoulder. "Very impressive Riddler."

My heart jumps at my pet name, but I focus on the task at hand. "But that's, it's impossible." John says.

"As Tammy said, Moran didn't disappear the entire Tube compartment did. The driver must have diverted the train and then detached the last carriage."

"Detached it where?" John asked. "You said there was nothing between those stations."

"Not on the maps, but once you eliminate all the other factors, the only thing remaining must be the truth." He points at the screen. "That carriage vanished, so it must be somewhere."

"But why, though? Why detach it in the first place?"

Sherlock begins pacing again. "It vanishes between St James's Park and Westminster. Lord Moran vanishes. You're kidnapped and nearly burned to death at a fireworks park." Sherlock stops shortly, obviously figuring it out. "What's the date, John, today's date?"

He frowns. "November the," his face pales a little. "my God."

Sherlock turns to the wall. "Lord Moran, he's a peer of the realm. Normally he'd sit in the House. Tonight there's an all-night sitting to vote on the new anti-terrorism Bill." He smiles. "But he won't be there. Not tonight." He turns to look at John. "Not the fifth of November."

"Remember," John says quietly. "remember."

"Gunpowder, treason and plot."

"I don't understand." I ask. "Could someone translate?"

"Naturally, you're an American." Sherlock says abruptly. I frown at him. "Sorry. Guy Fawkes was an English soldier and a member of a group of Roman Catholic conspirators who attempted to carry out a tremendous assignation attempt. His victims would have been James VI of Scotland and the members of both houses of the Parliament of England with a huge explosion, which was prevented by his arrest on 5 November 1605. Now, do try to keep up with us!"

Half an hour later, the flat is filled with books, maps and papers. Sherlock is skypeing with someone on his laptop. The man, obviously the one with that ridiculous ear hat, consults with them while they frantically search through mess on the table.

I come in, sit down, open a book and read it quietly as the children are taking a nap. "There's nothing down there, Mr. Holmes, I told you." Mr. Howard says. "No sidings, no ghost stations."

Sherlock turns the laptop so that John can see the screen. "There has to be. Check again."

John is looking through a book. "Look, this whole area is a big mess of old and new stuff. Charing Cross is made up of bits of older stations like Trafalgar Square, Strand-

Sherlock shakes his head. "No, it's none of those. We've accounted for those." He looks closer at an older map. "St Margaret's Street, Bridge Street, Sumatra Road, Parliament Street-

"Hang on, hang on. Sumatra Road. You mentioned Sumatra Road, Mr. Holmes." Howard says. "There is something. I knew it rang a bell." I stand up and walk over to where they're working. "Where is it?" Howard comes back into view. "There was a station down there."

"Well, why isn't it on the maps?"

"Cause it was closed before it ever opened."

"What?"

Howard holds up a book to the camera. "They built the platforms, even the staircases, but it all got tied up in legal disputes, so they never built the station on the surface."

Sherlock straightens up slowly. "It's right underneath the Palace of Westminster."

"And so what's down there?" John asks. "A bomb?"

Sherlock walks away and John hurries after him. I grab my coat and follow them down the steps. Mrs. Hudson is at the door. "Oh, all three of you popping out?" Sherlock realizes that I'm behind them and glowers at me. "Shall I watch the twins?"

I nod. "If you don't mind, they're taking their nap and we should be back soon." Sherlock opens his mouth and I cut him off. "Shut up Sherlock."

And for once, he actually does what I ask him!

Minutes later we're descending the stairs that will lead us down into Westminster station. "So it's a bomb, then?" John asks. "A Tube carriage is carrying a bomb?"

Sherlock nods abruptly. "Must be."

"Right." John takes his phone from his pocket.

Sherlock frowns. "What are you doing?"

"Calling the police."

"What? No!"

"Sherlock, this isn't a game. They need to evacuate Parliament."

Sherlock shrugs. "They'll get in the way. They always do. This is cleaner, more efficient."

Stopping at a locked entrance, he reaches into his coat, takes out a crowbar and breaks the gate open. I groan as John points out. "And illegal."

"A bit."

The gate opens and we go inside. Sherlock pulls out two flashlights and start to walk into the tunnels. John checks his phone, which reads, "NO SERVICE".

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asks without even turning around.

John sighs in agitation. "Coming."

"Tammy?" Sherlock calls and I trot up next to him.

"What?"

He just reaches out and takes my hand, without saying a word to me. I decide to let his actions speak for themselves and I smile quietly at him. For a while, we walk through narrow tunnels and climb down steep metal ladders. Sherlock glowers at me. "Why do you women insist on wearing heels?" Sherlock asks as he helps me down the final ladder rung. "It's ridiculous!"

"Because they make me look taller, my legs sexier and _you _love it!"

He doesn't comment and a few moments later we are on the platform of Sumatra Road station. Sherlock shines his flashlight down the length of the track, but there's no sign of a train.

Sherlock frowns. "I don't understand."

"Well," John comments. "that's a first!"

"There's nowhere else it could be." He turns to face the track and brings his hands up to either side of his head, concentrating and entering his mind palace. I stand patiently waiting for him to exit and a few seconds later, Sherlock's eyes snap open. "Oh!" he turns to the left and he runs towards the edge of the platform.

"What?" John asks. Sherlock ignores him as he jumps off the platform onto the tracks. "Hang on. Sherlock?"

"What?" Sherlock asks as he turns around and helps me get down.

"That's ... isn't it live?

He shrugs and continues walking down the tracks. "Perfectly safe as long as we avoid touching the rails."

"Course, yeah." John mumbles. "Avoid the rails. Great."

"This way." Sherlock says.

"You sure?" John asks.

"Sure."

"He's Sherlock Holmes," I remind him. "he's positive about everything."

Sherlock doesn't say anything, just smirks a little bit. We don't have to walk far because the missing carriage is revealed to us around the bend.

"Ah. Look at that."

A few seconds later, Sherlock looks upwards and shines his flashlight upwards. "John?"

They both stop and shine their flashlights upwards; at first I don't see anything. "Demolition charges." John points out and I see them, in the air vents.

We continue towards the carriage, John begins investigating underneath while Sherlock looks along the sides. After a few moments, Sherlock opens the door and we climb inside. I stand there while they both slowly begin checking every seat, every corner, looking around the ceiling and the floor. Sherlock begins paying attention to something.

"It's empty." John says from his end of the carriage. "There's nothing."

Unfortunately, he's wrong. I step to where Sherlock has already spotted a pair of black and red wires that went down the wall and under one of the seats. "Isn't there?" he asked quietly. Sherlock begins gently lifting the cushions. His face suddenly stiffens and he looks up at John. "This is the bomb."

I stare at Sherlock and John stares at him. "What?"

Sherlock lifts the cushion all the way, revealing the explosives. "It's not carrying explosives. The whole compartment is the bomb."

I stand there while the two men work their way along the carriage, lifting up the other cushions, to reveal that each one has an identical explosive device under it. Sherlock takes his gloves off, bends over and lifts up a floor panel, revealing the 'mother bomb.'

I gasp and take a few shaky steps backwards. John takes several deep nervous breaths, and then looks at Sherlock. "We need bomb disposal."

"There may not be time for that now." Something in Sherlock's tone causes my blood to run cold.

"So," John asks obviously missing Sherlock's tone of voice. "what do we do?"

After a brief pause, he speaks. "I have no idea."

My blood runs cold and John speaks sternly to Sherlock. "Well, think of something."

"Why do you think I know what to do?" Sherlock asks.

"Because you're Sherlock Holmes." John bites out. "You're as clever as it gets."

"Doesn't mean I know how to defuse a giant bomb." Sherlock points out. "What about _you_?"

I wasn't in bomb disposal. I'm a bloody doctor."

Sherlock angrily points his flashlight at him. "And a soldier, as you keep reminding us all."

John looks down at the countdown clock. "Can't we rip the timer off, or something?"

Sherlock shakes his head. "That would set it off."

"You see?" John snaps. "You know things."

Sherlock turns away and sighs. I'm inwardly freaking out, but doing fairly well at feigning that I'm calm. "So, what do we do now?"

Suddenly, all the lights come on and a quick glance downward reveals that the countdown clock on the mother bomb has started! I jump and let out a shriek as I realize what had just happened. The bomb had been activated.

John groans and begins breathing fast. "My God!" Sherlock takes a few steps away from him, to my surprise, he actually starts panicking! He paces for a few moments, muttering incoherent words. John then shouts. "Why didn't you call the police?"

"Please just-

John furiously cuts him off! "Why do you never call the police?"

"Well it's no use now." Sherlock says.

I glance down at the clock. It's now at 2:15. "Will you two calm down!" I shriek.

John was angry. "So you can't switch the bomb off? You can't switch the bomb off and you didn't call the police!"

"Go, John." He points towards the driver's cab. "Go now."

"There's no point now, is there, because there's not enough time to get away; and if we don't do this ...other people will die!

I look down; it's at 1:58 now. Sherlock pushes me towards the door. "Tammy, go! Run! Save yourself!"

I stare at him and I head straight for the door, but the moment my foot is on the threshold and I stop. My mind is frantically taking in all my options. What am I doing? Could I outrun the bomb? John said it was too late all ready! But should I leave them? Could I run away for safety and not be haunted by my decision in the days that would follow me afterwards. But if I stayed, what would happen to our children? The other side of me countered. I didn't have the right to leave them as orphans! But then, could I do it again? Could I honestly do it again? Could I honestly live my life, the way I lived when I thought him dead, again? Except this time, he would be dead. Could I honestly live my life without him in it? Could I handle going through this pain and grief all over again, this time for life? At the moment, my life was ticking away on a huge bomb and I didn't have long to think.


	9. 9: The decisions we make

Chapter Nine

The decisions we make

"Mind palace." John gasps out, pointing at Sherlock. "Use your mind palace."

Sherlock looks at John as if he's insane. "How will that help?"

"You've salted away every fact under the sun!" John shouts.

"Oh, and you think I've just got how to defuse a bomb tucked away in there somewhere?" Sherlock shouts back at him.

"Yes!"

Sherlock thinks about it for a second. "Maybe." He brings his fingers up to the sides of his face and shuts his eyes tightly.

"Think." John prods him. Sherlock lifts his head a little, still concentrating. "Think. Please think." Sherlock lets out a groan. "Think!"

"Quiet John!" I snap before placing my hand on the small of Sherlock's back. "Relax." My own heart rate is spiraling out of this world, but thank God my voice is even. For a moment, I feel him relax slightly under my touch, and then he tenses up again. Sherlock's hands flail madly with his eyes closed and he begins to make groaning noises. Then Sherlock lets out a cry and opens his eyes. He breathes heavily for a moment, and then he looks at us with a blank, apologetic look on his face.

John and I both stare at him in disbelief. "Oh my God."

John turns aside, but all I can do is stare at Sherlock as he tears his scarf from around his neck, bends over, burying his head in his hands, making incoherent groaning noises. He drops to his knees next to the bomb.

"This is it." I kneel down beside Sherlock as he flails uselessly over the bomb. John is still talking softly, as if he's coming to terms that this is the end of his life. "Oh my God."

Sherlock begins patting around the device and mumbling vaguely. "Turn that off. Oh God! Er, um, er." I can see that it's at 1:29 and I cover his hand with mine. Sherlock raises his head and looks at me. The look on his face is almost too much for me to bear. I've never, ever, seen Sherlock's face so pale, nor, have I ever seen him struggle to keep back tears in his eyes. I shake my head quietly. "What are you doing here? Why'd you come back?"

I bit my lip and admit. "I can't do it again."

He reaches up and touches my face. "Tammy."

"No." I said quietly. "It almost killed me when you were dead the first time, to loose you a second time…it really would kill me."

Sherlock raises his head and looks towards John. "I'm sorry."

John closes his eyes for a moment, and then looks at Sherlock. "What?"

Sherlock's expression is so upsetting and humbling. For the first time, Sherlock admits that he doesn't know something. "I can't ... I can't do it, John. I don't know how." He straightens up on his knees. "Forgive me?"

"What?" John's voice is tight and furious.

He brings his hands up into that familiar, praying position. "Please, John, Tammy, forgive me ... for all the hurt that I caused you."

John shakes his head, waving a finger at him. "No, no, no, no, no, no. This is a trick."

"No."

"Another one of your bloody tricks."

"No."

"You're just trying to make me say something nice."

Sherlock chuckles briefly. "Not this time."

"It's just to make you look good even though you behaved like-

John is now fighting back tears, and turns away as he tries to steady his breathing. Sherlock moves away from the bomb and sits on the edge of one of the seats. He still has a hold of my hand as he pulls me onto his lap so that I'm straddling him. I close my eyes, wrap my arms around his neck and embrace the inevitable. For some reason, I don't feel frightened as he wraps his hands around my hips and leans his forehead into my chest.

John stamps his foot and speaks hoarsely. "I wanted you not to be dead."

"Yeah, well," Sherlock says quietly. "be careful what you wish for." John sighs and I run my hand through Sherlock's hair, toying with that particular curl that rests in the middle of his forehead. "If I hadn't come back, you wouldn't be standing there and …you'd still have a future with Mary.

John turns and points at him. "Yeah. I know." Sherlock clenches his fist against his mouth, and then wipes his nose as tears dribble down his cheeks. "Look, I find it difficult." Sherlock nods. "I find it difficult, this sort of stuff."

Sherlock looks up at him. "I know." He looks at me, wiping away the tears that are streaming down my cheeks. "Why aren't you freaking out?"

"I am," I said quietly as I tighten my grip around his neck. "I'm freaking out on the inside and not on the outside. It helps…because I've just got something to hold onto."

John exhales, straightens up and looks at Sherlock. His voice is a cracked, whisper. "You were the best and the wisest man ...that I have ever known." Sherlock looks at him; his eyes wide and tear-filled. He doesn't seem to believe what he's actually hearing. "Yes, of course I forgive you."

Sherlock gazes at me. "And you Tammy, I've completely ruined your life. Not once, but twice. I ruined it by first allowing myself to actually…care for you, ruined your relationship with your brother. Then, I put you in jeopardy by marrying you; break your heart and leaving you to bear our children alone. Then I come back after you've got your life back into order and mess it up again."

"Shut up Sherlock." I say firmly. "I forgave you for everything the moment I saw you again." He stares at me in surprise. "Honest, I did."

He tilts his head to the side and brushes my cheek with his knuckles. "I honestly, at times, did think of letting you go," I held my breath as he spoke. "But then I thought about those two years and decided that they weren't worth repeating."

"I wouldn't have traded the pleasure of owing the crown jewels in exchange for being loved by you for one hour. Thank you, for everything."

Sherlock leans forward and kisses me; his mouth is relaxed while mine is completely tense, waiting for death. Only Sherlock Holmes could be faced with death and be so calm about the whole situation. He breaks the kiss, rests his chin on my shoulder as I close my eyes tight. Sherlock's shoulders begin to shake and for a moment, I believe that he's actually crying out loud. But as my ears become accustomed to the sound, I realized that I'm hearing laughter, not tears. Why is he laughing? John opens his eyes as he too realizes that Sherlock is laughing loudly. I pull away from Sherlock and turn towards John as steps forward and looks down at the countdown clock on the mother bomb. I jump up in shock as I realized that it is stuck between 1:28 and 1:29. The bomb is paused! I then realized that Sherlock must have switched it off!

My mouth falls open in shock as John looks at the clock again and then stares upwards in total disbelief. "You-

Sherlock stands up; tears of mirth streaming down his cheeks, as he laughs hysterically. "Oh, your face!"

"Utter-

"Your face!"

"You-

Sherlock grins. "I totally had you."

"You cock! I knew it! I knew it!"

Sherlock is laughing and all I can seem to do is continue to stare at the men in complete shock. "Oh, those things you said such sweet things! I-I never knew you cared!"

John glares at him. "I will kill you if you ever breathe a word of this."

"Scout's honor."

"To anyone! You knew!" Sherlock squats down to the bomb as John furiously shouts at him. "You knew how to turn it off!"

"There's an off switch." He states calmly.

"What?!" John and I shout.

"There's always an off switch." He explains to us. "Terrorists can get into all sorts of problems unless there's an off switch."

I gasp and hold onto my chest as John speaks tightly. "So why did you let us go through all that?"

"I didn't lie altogether." Sherlock explains. "I've absolutely _no_ idea how to turn any of these silly little lights off." He chuckles and wipes the tears off his cheeks. "Oh!"

Behind us, flashlights are approaching. John stares, then points towards the flickering lights. "And you did call the police."

"Course I called the police." Sherlock explains as if he's talking to a child.

John groans. "I'm definitely gonna kill you."

Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Oh, please! Killing me…. that's so two years ago." He makes the mistake of looking at me. "And I don't see what you're so upset about. Tammy is taking thing relatively well."

I let out a scream and lunge at Sherlock, hands prepared to strangle him. Sherlock's eyes widen as I throw myself at him, hard enough to knock him to the ground! He lets out a grunt as his head hits the floor, hard. "You bastard!" I shout. "You son of a," his eyes widen and I change the choice of words. "idiot! How dare you!" I grab a hold of his neck and start shaking him. "How dare you!? Why do you do that to people!?"

Sherlock grabbed a hold of my hands and flipped me over, reversing our positions. I shriek and struggle under him. "I guess you're mad at me?"

"MAD!?" I scream. "I'm FURIOUS! Oh, I am going to kill you!" he laughs loudly at me. "Don't you laugh at me when I'm mad at you!" I scream. He only laughs louder. "You SHUT UP!"

"I guess you're _really _mad at me?"

"Damn right I am!" I shout. "What is it about me being mad that you don't understand? I'll use small words to be sure that you understand. Are you such a stupid idiot to think that I wouldn't get mad at you? Wait a minute; to call you stupid would be an insult to stupid people!" Sherlock leaned forward and I struggled against his hands, which held me firmly by the wrist. I knew he was going to kiss me and that would officially end my tirade and I didn't want it to be over yet! "Don't you dare!" I twist my head to the side and shout. "John!"

Sherlock's lips cover mine and I let out several angry sounds as I buck against him, my attempts to get him off me only seem to delight him further. He lets go of one of my hands, squeezing my jaw a little, so my lips part and his tongue seeks entrance with mine. I squeal, but somehow, my anger turns and twists into a mad, frantic, and crazy passion. Had we been at home, he would have torn my clothes off and had me on the spot. I push on his chest, trying to break it up. But Sherlock is insistent and dead set on making me surrender.

"Hey, you two," John says. "Lestrade is coming. Break it up."

I turn my head to the side as Sherlock begins working my neck. "Stop….please."

He doesn't obey me and John asks. "Want me to get involved Tammy?"

"Please!

John steps forward, Sherlock gets off me, smirking triumphantly as I lay there on the ground, trying to collect my breath. He pulls me up and smiles as I cling to his coat. "See, you're not really that mad, are you?" I shake my head breathlessly as he nuzzles my forehead. "Thought not."

At that moment, I decide that I'm going to have my revenge on him. I'm going to go out on a date….with someone other than Sherlock. And I'd been eyeing a red, clinging cocktail dress for days. It had a deep neckline and the skirt definitely would be riding high on my thighs when I sat down. I made a mental note to ask Greg if he knew any single men that Sherlock hadn't met yet. Then, he'd send them over tomorrow night, prepared to take me clubbing! Ohh was he going to suffer!


	10. 10: Sherlock's evil twin

Chapter Ten

Sherlock's evil twin

I tap on Sherlock's bedroom and enter the room. _Sherlock, please. I beg of you._ I can hear Mycroft speaking on the phone. The familiar sounds of 'Do you hear the people sing' is playing in the background. He must be watching Les Miserables with his parents. But from the tone of his voice, he was definitely hating it and was trying to get Sherlock to take over. _You can take over at the interval._

Sherlock is in front of the wardrobe mirror and attempting to button his jacket with one hand. "Oh, I'm sorry, brother dear, but you made a promise." I step up and button his coat for him. "There's nothing I can do to help." He smiles at me, and rests his hand on my hip. "Thank you."

_But you don't understand the pain of it _he gasped out._ the horror!_

Grinning, Sherlock ends the call and turns towards me. "Hello."

"I guess Mycroft has no appreciation for the arts."

"Look who's talking." Sherlock said. "I got you the movie Les Miserables, with Hugh Jackman and Russell Crowe and you laugh throughout the whole movie!"

"Sorry! But, I'm used to Alfie Boe, Michael Ball, Ramin Karimloo and other famous singers. What else am I supposed to do when I hear them butchering the music?"

"Technically, they are on key."

"I'm the singer, you're the detective, so shut up." I smile and pat his chest. "Come on. John and everyone is waiting."

Sherlock groans. "Who cares?"

He leans forward to kiss me but I notice john approaching us and evade his mouth. "John's coming."

Sherlock groans again. "Why does he have such terrible timing?"

I give him a quick peck on the lips, turn and walk away. "Come on." John says. "You'll have to go down. They want the story."

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock walks past him, in pursuit of me. "In a minute."

We walk into the living room where Mary, Mrs. Hudson, and Greg are all sitting, holding an empty champagne glass. Sherlock pops the cork on a new bottle and walks across the room with the bottle and two glasses.

"Oh, I'm really pleased, Mary." Mrs. Hudson chirps. "Have you set a date?"

"Well we thought May." Mary says.

"Oh! Spring wedding!"

"Well," Mary blushes. "once we've actually got engaged."

"Yeah." John says.

Mary looks pointedly at Sherlock. "We were interrupted last time."

I frown and shake my head at him. "That's Sherlock for you."

"Well, I can't wait." Greg raises his glass in a toast.

Sherlock puts down the glasses he's just poured, stands up and walks across the room to where I'm standing by the window.

"You will be there, Sherlock?" Mary asks.

Sherlock makes a face. "Weddings…not really my thing." He winks at Mary and she smiles.

I smile. "He'll fuss, complain, kick his heels, come up with three hundred different reasons why he can't come, then he'll show up." I smile as he hands me my glass of champagne. "But he won't miss it, he wouldn't miss the wedding of his best and only friend's wedding for the world. Thank you."

He clinks his glass against mine. "Here's to us."

I frown. "Sherlock, not our moment."

"I can make it our moment." He slides his arm around my waist. "But I'd prefer to wait a bit longer. So, here's to us."

I shake my head and touch my glass to his. "Here's to us."

He wiggles his brows at me before taking a sip. The alcohol warms me and I feel it slide down my throat and nestle in my stomach. I'm not a major wine drinker, even though I love champagne, I can't help but have my off days. The flat door opens and I turn to see Molly enter the flat. "Hello, everyone."

"Hey, Molly." John says.

I approach her, to observe that she is happily holding hands with the man accompanying her. "This is Tom." John stares at her boyfriend, and we both do a double take; we both turn back and look across the room towards Sherlock. Mary is oblivious to our surprise. "Tom, this is everyone."

Tom nods. "Hi."

John continues to stare at him in surprise. I study the man, if the makeup was done right, he could be Sherlock's double. He is tall, has dark curly hair that is a little shorter than Sherlock's. He has large eyes, prominent cheekbones, he's even wearing a dark coat with the collar turned up and a scarf around his neck.

Lestrade approaches and shakes his hand. "Hi."

"It's really nice to meet you all." He looks at John. "Hi."

John is able to pull himself together. "Wow. Yeah, hi. I'm John." He shakes his hand. "Good to meet you."

I turn towards Sherlock, who is looking out of the window. "Tammy?" I turn at Molly's voice. She gestures and I realize that Tom is standing in front of me.

"Hi." I say uneasily. "I'm er, uhm, Tammy Holmes."

"Mrs. Sherlock Holmes?"

I shrug. "I honestly don't know."

"Ready?" Sherlock asks.

"Ready."

Tom turns to meet Sherlock, who catches sight of Tom for the first time. He stops dead and his eyes widen. Tom looks at him equally wide-eyed as Sherlock gives him the once-over from his feet upwards. I hold my breath, expecting Sherlock to do one of his rapid-fire deductions. But he doesn't, he remains silent, that in itself is unnerving for me.

"Champagne?" Lestrade says to Molly.

"Yes."

Sherlock's jaw drops a little and he turns towards John, who grins back at him expectantly. Finally Sherlock holds out his hand to Tom, and they shake hands. I exhale deeply as Sherlock walks in between the couple and out of the door.

Greg hands Molly a glass of champagne. "Thanks."

I turn and follow John and Sherlock. Once on the landing, John walks over to Sherlock, who is looping his scarf around his neck. John points back towards the door. "Did you-

Sherlock responds quietly. "I'm not saying a word."

"No, best not."

"Well, since you two know something I obviously don't know, why don't you share with the rest of the class?" Sherlock shakes his head at me and I step in front of him. "And you're not going anywhere until you tell me. I mean it Sherlock whatever-your-middle-name is Holmes!"

Sherlock exhales. "When she strings my name up together like that she's serious. Fine." He leans forward and whispers. "You remember the little girl who was abducted by Moriarty?" I nod. "Everyone assumed she reacted like that because I was her kidnapper. But I deduced Moriarty must have found someone who looked very like me to plant suspicion, and that that man, whoever he was, had to be got out of the way as soon as his usefulness ended. That meant there was a corpse in a morgue somewhere that looked just like me."

"Hold on, wait a minute." I say. "Then why did the boy lie to me? He went through that whole trial and everything."

"Mycroft. He explained to the family that everything was under control. Since you were dead set on clearing my name, thank you for that, to go ahead and clear my name. The real kidnapper was dead. We actually did find a corpse that looked like me and Mycroft presented them with the evidence, proving that I wasn't the kidnapper. He then coached the boy into saying the proper things."

"And I gave him your hat!"

He smirked. "He actually was a fan of mine, so wise choice. He wasn't totally convinced that I was the kidnapper. Mycroft says that he did notice a few things about him that weren't right."

"Well,' I shook my head. "so, did I actually win the case, or was that rigged as well?"

"Oh come on Tammy," he said rubbing my shoulder. "you're a brilliant little fighter. I saw the footage, quite impressive, I was actually moved," he tilted my face up towards his. "very much." He leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the mouth.

I sigh and push away from him. "And…now Molly's engaged to the actual kidnapper. Wonderful. And I tried to introduce her to Charles! But of course, she would fall in love with your evil twin!" A sudden thought strikes me and I sober instantly.

Unfortunately for me, Sherlock notices. "What? You've thought of something?"

"Not really."

"You're a bad liar Tammy. What is it?"

"I'm a good liar, I just don't want to tell you."

"You better tell me or I am going to publicly grope you out there!"

"Fine!" I glower at him. "Molly's in love with you!"

As usual, I got a bigger reaction from John. "What?"

Sherlock shrugged. "I've known a long time."

I stare at him. "What? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You're a woman. I thought all women had a sense of these sort of things."

"I hate to change the subject, but I'm still waiting." John said, trying to steer us clear of a pending argument. "Why did they try and kill me? If they knew you were on to them, why go after me…put me in the bonfire?"

Sherlock picks up his coat. "I don't know. I don't like not knowing." He trots down the stairs with John and I following. "Unlike the nicely embellished fictions on your blog, John, real life is rarely so neat." He stops at the bottom of the stairs to put his coat on. I follow him all the way down but John stops a couple of steps from the bottom. "I don't know who was behind all this, but I will find out, I promise you."

"Don't pretend you're not enjoying this."

Sherlock doesn't even turn around. "Hmm?"

"Being back. Being a hero again."

"Oh, don't be stupid." Sherlock says.

"Quote. Don't make people into heroes John. Heroes don't exist and if they did, I wouldn't be one of them. Unquote."

Sherlock shakes his head. "Well, you actually do listen to me."

"Shut up."

"You'd have to be an idiot not to see it." John points out. "You love it."

Sherlock turns to face him. "Love what?"

"Being Sherlock Holmes."

"I don't even know what that's supposed to mean." He turns and puts his gloves on. "You have everything?"

"Sherlock, you are gonna tell me how you did it?" John asked. "How you jumped off that building and survived?"

Sherlock pauses but turns around. "You know my methods, John. I am known to be indestructible."

"No, but seriously. When you were dead, I went to your grave."

"I should hope so."

"I made a little speech. I actually spoke to you."

Sherlock finally turns to look at him. "I know. I was there."

"I asked you for one more miracle. I asked you to stop being dead."

He nods and speaks softly. "I heard you. I heard Tammy too." They look at each other for a moment, and then Sherlock draws in a sharp breath. "Anyway, time to go and be Sherlock Holmes."

I watch as he hesitates, and then reaches for that deerstalker hat that's hanging there. I hold my breath as he slowly puts it up on his head. "Oh my God!" the words slip out before I can stop them. He turns and looks at me as I shake my head in glee. "You're _actually _putting it on."

He shrugs. "People like it." He takes my hand and drags me towards the door. "Let's just go and get this over with."

"Are you sure you want me out there?"

"Of course I do." He stops and turns towards me. "I'd be lost without my wife."

I pause. "Wait a minute. Sherlock, what if…they know that our marriage is dissolved?"

He shrugged. "Just leave that to me."

"I know! And that's what I'm worried about! God alone knows what's going to come out of that mouth of yours and I'm certain He even starts breaking a sweat when he knows what you're going to say!"


	11. 11: When I see you smile

Chapter Eleven

When I see you smile

Greg was more than happy to oblige, and true to his word, he found someone. A Taylor Carpenter. The date was at 8:30, so at 8:00, I got up from the movie Sherlock and I were watching and went to change into that red dress.

I knew it was a good dress when I saw it. Made out that silky, slinky type material that clung in all the proper places. My legs were displayed and my breasts were definitely threatening to spill out if I bent over. I put on my most alarming shade of red lipstick, climbed into my red heels and added a huge red flower clip to my hair.

I opened the door, to find Sherlock standing up, his clothes changed and he was holding out a red rose to me. "Ahh," he says with that smirk on his face. "I see my date is ready."

"You!" I snarl as I stomp my foot. The whole room has gone a drastic change. The tables are pushed back, there's candles lit and there are several bouquets of roses here and there. He laughs. "How did you know? Never mind! You're Sherlock Holmes!"

He takes my coat from my arm and throws it over the couch. "I called Greg and told him to cancel your 'date' as I all ready knew about it."

I groan. "Can't I have any surprises when I'm around you?"

"I thought I just gave you one."

"Shut up."

Mrs. Hudson laughed as she came up with a small tray of food. "Here you go!" She sighs as Sherlock took the tray from her. "This is so romantic. Have fun you two!"

I smile at her and glower at Sherlock the moment the door shuts. "So, what is this?"

"We're on a date." He explained, setting the tray down to reveal it was done up with all of my favorite treats. He flips the lights off and smiles approvingly at me. "You're dressed appropriately."

"I hate you."

He laughs at me and walks up to me. "So you say many times when you mean exactly the opposite." I shake my head at him. "Am I forgiven?"

I exhale. "I'll tell you as soon as this date is over. So, what are we doing?"

Sherlock takes ahold of my hand and guides me towards the couch. "Well I finally found 'Ode to a Nightingale,' if you recall, I promised you that I'd read it to you."

I nod and settle down beside him, snitching one of the white chocolate twists. "I remember."

He opens the small book on the table and begins browsing through it. I grab a strawberry and hold it up to his mouth. He takes a bite and talks around it. "Thank you." I tuck my legs up on the couch and he glances at me. "Comfortable?"

"Very."

"I think you'd be more comfortable with your head on my shoulder."

I blink, caught off guard at his open offer of comfort. "All right." I put my head on his shoulder. "I'm ready."

"My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains my sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk. Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains one minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot. But being too happy in _thine_ happiness," he rests his hand on my bare shoulder, stroking it gently. "that thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees. In some melodious plot of beechen green and shadows numberless, singest of summer in full-throated ease."

At this point, my eyes have drifted closed and my breathing has changed to a slower rhythm "O, for a draught of vintage! That hath been cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth. Tasting of Flora and the country green, dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth! O for a beaker full of the warm South, full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene. With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, and purple-stained mouth; that I might drink, and leave the world unseen, and with thee fade away into the forest dim."

"Fade, far away, dissolve, and quite forget what thou among the leaves hast never known. The weariness, the fever, and the fret. Here, where men sit and hear each other groan. Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs. Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies. Where but to think is to be full of sorrow and leaden-eyed despairs. Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, or new Love pine at them beyond tomorrow."

"Away! Away! For I _will_ fly to thee. Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, but on the viewless wings of Poesy, though the dull brain perplexes and retards. Already with thee! Tender is the night, and haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne. Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays. But here, there is no light. Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways."

"I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs. But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet, wherewith the seasonable month endows. The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild; white hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine. Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves, and mid-May's eldest child. The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine. The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves."

"Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death. Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, to take into the air my quiet breath. Now more than ever seems it rich to die, to cease upon the midnight with no pain.  
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad in such an ecstasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain, to thy high requiem become a sod."

"Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down. The voice I hear this passing night was heard in ancient days by emperor and clown. Perhaps the self-same song that found a path, through the sad heart of Ruth. When, sick for home, she stood in tears amid the alien corn. The same that oft-times hath charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn."

"Forlorn! The very word is like a bell to toll me back from thee to my sole self! Adieu! The fancy cannot cheat so well, as she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf. Adieu! Adieu! Thy plaintive anthem fades past the near meadows, over the still stream. Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep in the next valley-glades. Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music, do I wake or sleep?"

Sherlock sets the book aside, and he places his hand on my head, gently stroking my hair. After some long moments of silence, I look up at him. "That was….too beautiful, for words." Sherlock rolls his eyes. "I mean it Sherlock. If you could read the most beautiful words in the world, you'd easily outsell Madonna."

He frowned. "Who's Madonna?"

I laugh lightly. "No one of importance. Honest."

Sherlock exhales and rubs my shoulder. "Dance?"

He's up and out of his seat before I have a chance to react. I shake my head. "You're quite the romantic aren't you?"

He shrugs. "I have my moments." He browses through his phone. "And this is definitely going to be one of them." He sets his phone down as music comes through the speakers. He holds his hand out to me. "May I?"

I frown, unsure of what he's asking. "May you what?"

He groans. "Dance?"

I frown, but then I catch on. "Oh!" I put my hand in his and stand up. "Yes! I'd love to dance with you."

He pulls me close, his hands resting on my hips and I wrap my arms around his neck. I smile as we sway back and forth. We're not ballroom dancing, but this was a special dance unto itself. "I heard this song in a restaurant while I was on a case, and I almost lost a suspect. Thanks to you."

I glower at him. "I wasn't anywhere near you."

"You were in my _head_." He states. "Doesn't mean that you aren't anywhere near me. It has….everything…I want to say to you, but can't."

_Sometimes I wonder how I ever make it through this world without having you. I just wouldn't have a clue. And sometimes it seems like this world's closing on me. And there's no way of breaking free, then I see you reach out for me. Sometimes I wanna give up, wanna give in, wanna quit the fight. _He takes one of my hands from his neck, joins our fingers together, and presses my hand against his chest._ Then one look at you baby can make everything all right. _I tremble as he presses a sweet kiss on my cheek before resting his cheek against mine. _Make everything all right. _

_When I see you smile, I can face the world. Oh, you know that I can do anything.  
When I see you smile, I see a ray of light. Oh, I see you shining right through the rain, _he takes my face in his hand, tilts it up so I have to look at him. _When I see you smile. Baby, when I see you smile at me. _He runs his thumb over the corner of my mouth.

_Baby there's nothing in this world that could ever do, _I reach up and touch his face, trailing my knuckles down his fine cheekbones. _what a touch of your hands can do. It's like nothing I ever knew. _I shake, fighting against the tears that are desperate to start overflowing. _Oh, and when the rain is falling, I can hear it. Cause your heart with me. And one look at you baby, is all I ever need._ Sherlock takes my face in his and presses his forehead against mine._ Is all I ever need, oh._

At this point I loose all my control and I start sobbing uncontrollably. I close my eyes as I tightly grip onto his hands. Sherlock is either smiling, or rolling his eyes, but I can't open my eyes to find out. He steps away from me and I open my eyes to see that he is no longer standing in front of me.

He's actually on the ground, on one knee. He reaches up and takes my hands in his. I gasp as he runs his fingers over my hands. "Personally, I would have preferred to do this without getting on one knee, but it's what you want, so I'll do." I shake my head in happy dismay. "Now, I think I've done everything that you've asked of me. I've kept my hands off you…pretty much. I wasn't sure I'd won you back until we were in that carriage and you chose to stay with me. Even if you were intending to kill me afterwards." I laugh lightly. "And I'd like things to go back to the way things were with us. So, will you marry me?" I can't help but smile at his blunt tone. "Of course you haven't got to decide right away, but think about it for a while. I can't advise you in my favor because I think it would be beastly for you, but do think about how nice it would be for me!"

He moves to get up, but I stop him. "Don't you dare move Sherlock Holmes!" I shake my head as he frowns, looking up at me. "Now, inspite of your…ridiculously adorable proposal suggestion that I take some time and think on it, I don't have to think for long." I bite my lip, smiling as he looks towards my mouth. "Now, I shall answer your proposal, as soon as you answer one question for me."

He frowns. "That doesn't make sense."

I laugh. "Why do you want to marry me? And you need to tell me the words that I really need to hear!"

He tilts his head to the side and responds hesitantly. "I love you?"

"Well do you?"

"Of course I do!" he looks at me as if I'm an idiot. "Do you think I'd be down here on one knee, with my leg falling asleep if I didn't mean it!?"

"Sorry!" I laugh. "Yes! I'm a fool to accept it on such an…unromantic way of professing it to me. But, yes Sherlock, since I love you and I've been so….sweetly informed that you love me too." He lets out a short laugh. I'd be honored to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Can I get up now?"

I laugh. "Of course!"

He stands up, reaches into his pocket and slides a ring on my hand. On close examination, it's my wedding ring from our first marriage. "You're not superstitious are you?"

"Not really. But don't you think it odd that you're proposing to me with my old wedding ring?"

"No." He wraps his arms around my waist and kisses me briefly and fondly. "I am giving you a new wedding ring."

My mouth drops open. "Sherlock."

"We're starting our marriage over again. It's a new chapter and you deserve a new ring. And you _won't _argue with me!"

"I only meant that…wouldn't you propose with my engagement ring?"

"No." Sherlock pulls me into a tight embrace. Happiness flows over me as I close my eyes, desperate to hold onto this moment forever. "Why'd you marry me the first time? You must have known that I wouldn't be easy to live with."

"Sherlock," I respond softly as I run my hand through his hair. "you don't marry someone you can live with. You marry the person you can't live _without_." His eyes narrow before understanding flashes in his eyes. "And like it or not, I can't live without you."

"And I can't live without you either." Sherlock leans forward and kisses me. I smile against him as I lean against him. His hands grip my hips and he pulls me against him. Heat flushes through my body as I feel his desire against me. I grab at his coat lapels, this time, finding it extremely difficult to say no to him. Oh, these were familiar feelings that that I hated more than anything. "Don't deny me tonight. Please." I groan as he kisses me again. The hunger, want and want inside his kiss. It was brief, but I knew he wanted me so much, I could taste the desperation on his lips was almost too much for me. "Please. Don't you know how it's been for me, to see you every day like this?" I gasp as he cups my face with his hands, those long fingers of his stroking my neck. "Having to ask for your touch and for your kisses? Please, if I have to beg for your body, then I'll do so. Just say the word."

I cover my mouth as tears fill my eyes. "Sherlock." I bite my lip. "I do want you, but I can't. I am so, so, sorry Sherlock. I want you." I wrap my arms tightly around his neck. "I do, I really, really do. I want nothing more for you to take me, make love to me, and claim me as you did so many times when we were married. But….I can't. It's just….this part of me." I shake my head and look down at him. "I just…can't unless-

Sherlock placed his finger on my mouth. "Unless we're married again?" I nod and he exhales. For a moment I think he's upset with me, but his tone changes. "Don't worry, I figured that's what you'd say. Just thought I'd take a chance, hope you'd change your mind."

"I know. I wish I could, I mean, after all, we've been married before and-

He covers my mouth again with his finger. "Hey, it's ok. It's one of those…little things that I love about you. I waited for you once, remember?" I nodded as he strokes my cheek with his thumb. "You gave me everything you had. I can wait to make you mine again. But know….that I am _not _going to wait long. I am not a patient man."

I flush and nod. "Yes. I remember _very _well."

"And if I also remember, it was well worth the wait." I flush and nod as he leans forward. "And since we're both experienced now, it'll be even better." He then snaps out of his romantic mode and turns into Mr. Strictly business. "So…when are we getting married again?"

"I'd actually like a very simple wedding Sherlock. Just John, Mary, your parents, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade."

"No Molly or Mycroft?"

"I probably should invite her, but then she'll invite your evil twin."

Sherlock nodded. "True. All right, just immediate friends then. So how long will this take?"

I exhale. "Fine. A week then."

His brows arched. "A week? Can you honestly pull off a wedding in a week?"

"Yes. I'll ask Angelo to cater, that's done. We can rearrange my flat and have the ceremony up there."

"Flowers?"

"Just my bouquet."

"Music?"

"We'll use my MP3 player. Select the music prior."

"Cake? Never mind, Angelo's got that taken care of. Photographer?"

"I'm sure you know someone who'll drop anything for you."

"Wedding dress?"

"I've got one."

He nods. "Right. So next week it is?"

I nod. "Next Sunday…Mr. Holmes."

"I shall look forward to it….soon to be Mrs. Holmes."


	12. 12: Reunited

Chapter Twelve

Reunited

_A month later, December 15__th__,_

Mary shakes her head as I study my reflection in the mirror. "I don't know Tammy. Are you sure Sherlock is going to like this dress?"

I smirk. "He's going to fall in love with me the moment he sees the front, then go insanely crazy the moment he sees the back."

The white dress was made of silk that hung gracefully around me, but showed my shape nicely. The neckline was a little low, and the diamond ring definitely showed a little more of my breasts than I'd ever shown in public. The back was the surprise I definitely was going to love. From the front, the dress looked like a halter dress, but when one saw the back, it revealed a deep, plunging back. Definitely the most immodest thing I've ever worn in public. But I wanted to catch Sherlock off guard and I was definitely going to do that with this dress.

"But overall, how do I look?"

"Lovely." Mary turns to Linda, who's playing with the flowers in the basket. "Are you ready?"

I nod. "Yes, John can start the music now."

She nods and takes Linda's hand. Linda hurries happily follows Mary towards the door. I grab my bouquet of red roses and follow after her. Mary climbs up the stairs and nods to John who's waiting nearby. He scurries into the room and starts my MP3 player, we'd decided on the Downton Abbey theme instead of the wedding march. Personally, I hated that tune and Sherlock hated it as well. He wasn't fond of Downton Abbey either, but he gave in for my sake. Mary found her seat; John hurried to take his place by Sherlock's side. Sherlock was concentrating on getting Linda over. She was more interested in everyone else instead of walking down the 'aisle' that we'd created. Sherlock pulled out a lollipop, bribing her, her eyes lit up and she scurried for it. Sherlock pocket it and she pouted.

I shook my head and came around the corner just as Sherlock straightened up. His eyes flashed in surprise. I'd told him I wasn't getting a new dress and that had been a difficult lie to hide. The way his eyes scanned me told me that I'd made the right choice in dress.

Little Sherlock stood beside his father, holding onto the rings and looking bored and solemn. But the moment I reached his father and took his hand, he plopped down on his rear end, still clutching the pillow.

Everyone smiles and Sherlock holds onto my hands tightly as we listen to the minister drone on, and on before finally coming to the vows. The renewal vows had been somewhat difficult. But I had found the perfect vows online, but I'd personalized them a bit.

Sherlock exhaled, preparing himself for the speech, before making eye contact with me. "I take you Tammy, to be my wife, again. I vow to hold you in my arms each opportunity I get because there is no one I'd rather be holding." Oh, there goes that voice again. All ready my eyes start to prickle. "In the two years that I was absent from your life, I realized that there was nowhere I would rather be for the rest of my life than with you again. And when I almost lost you to someone else," he released my hand and rested his hand on my cheek, gently stroking it. "my heart and head, finally realized what I had carelessly cast aside. I know that we have made promises to one another before in the past, but this time I will keep all of the promises. Again, I swear that I will love you, because I want you for always. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, month, years and for all eternities hereafter. I will do all I can to maintain an open line of communication with you, even when it seems or feels that things are not getting better. I will not forsake you or these vows that we have made again, but rather strive to show you my love for the rest of our lives. I promise to be a patient, loving father to Sherlock and Linda, caring and providing for them. I promise to be their strength and their emotional support, loving them with all my heart. This is my promise to you."

At this point, I cannot refrain from jumping forward and kissing him lightly on the lips. Everyone lets out an 'aww' as I draw back. I hear several people sniffing and know that he's moved everyone to tears. Sherlock frowns at me, somewhat surprised by my display of affection. "You're supposed to do that _after _we're married." He points out. "Don't you think-

"Oh shut up," I choke out. "I'd be a fool if I didn't kiss you after hearing those words." I take his hands in mine, shifting a little closer towards him. "Sherlock, we have been through this once before. We remarry today, not because it wasn't that the first time was not enough. Though frankly, people do think I'm a little crazy to come back for more craziness with you." He smirks at that. "It is not out of fame or fortune, lust or greed. I want to relive a moment in my life that I will always be proud of. A moment that was never too dull or grand, it was simply just right. I loved you then, I love you now, and I always do. No matter what you say or do, I will always love you." At this point, everyone, including myself is in tears. Sherlock is having a difficult time fighting back the tears. "I mean to only borrow some immortal words from Emily Brontes 'Wuthering Height's. My love for you resembles the eternal rocks beneath; a source of little visible delight, but necessary. You are always, always in my mind. Not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being. And when you were gone, and I thought you dead, I begged you to be with me always even though my head demanded that I set you free." At this point, my emotions catch up with me and tears threaten to choke me. "My heart was begging that you take any form, drive me mad, only _do_ _not_ leave me alone in this world without you! I _cannot_ live without my life, I _cannot_ live without my soul, therefore I _cannot_ live without you!"

Sherlock leaned forward and folded me into a hug that was short lived. As his hands went across my back, he felt the skin and frowned. I fought back a smile as his hands dipped lower, finding more skin. Suddenly, Sherlock said, "What happened to the back of your dress?" Everyone laughed at him and he scowled. "Well?"

"They made it this way Sherlock." I said wiping my eyes. "Jeez, you know how to spoil a moment don't you?"

He frowns. "Rather improper for a wedding don't you think?"

"Tell me about it after you've given me your name, again!"

Sherlock glowered at me and I made a face at him. But several long minutes later, I was Sherlock's wife again. He got me a silver band, with a small diamond in it. The kiss had been a rather gentle, unmemorable kiss, but I could taste that he had something planned later, I just didn't know what.

"Why'd you buy this dress?" he whispered as he helped me into my seat. "It's nothing I'd ever thought I'd see you wear."

"I just thought I'd exact my revenge for that bomb scare you gave me."

He scowled at me. "I apologized."

"Yes, but I didn't get my revenge." I smiled. "You…have to wait until we're all alone before you see more than what I've displayed."

"Or," he leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "I could drag you down the bedroom and have my way with you now."

My face went beet red and I stared at him. "I can't believe you just said that!"

John cleared his throat. "I don't think we want to know what he said do we?"

"No!" I say. "You definitely do not! John, the speech, now! Please!"

"Oh God." Sherlock groaned as he sat down beside me. He took off his son's tie and shoved it in his pocket. "Great."

John stood up. "Ok, at Tammy's request ladies and gentlemen, I have the honor of acting as the best man for the second time for this couple." He cleared his throat, reached into his pocket, pulled out his notes and began to read. "But understand, if you two get married a third time, you must find a new best man. You know the saying, thrice the best man, never the groom." Everyone laughed. "This is an especially eventful day because it offers Sherlock and Tammy each a second chance at happiness. Sherlock and Tammy have each walked many miles to be here together today, and this wedding is a joy to behold. I can speak for everyone in this room when I say we all wish you the happiness that you deserve. We are so glad that even Sherlock's faked death couldn't separate you two from the love that you share together. You've both worked hard to get here today. It's been said that if marriage is to be a success, one should begin by marrying the right person. It's obvious that each of you is indeed marrying the right person today. I don't think I've ever seen a couple who compliment each other as much as these two do." I frown as John continues. "Sherlock is a highly intelligent, loud-spoken, unorganized and rude man. He is very well respected in his line of work and he's just a generally all round nice guy, when he's not being totally annoying, which unfortunately for everyone is pretty much most of the time.

And Tammy is a dear friend and a beautiful woman, inside and out. To see her with Sherlock is an amazing thing to see. She's quiet, modest, sweet and yet she has this fiery temper and a truly, sharp sense of humor. She has these subtle bursts of intelligence that save time on a case and she is well loved by everyone. I enjoy watching Tammy and Sherlock challenge each other, especially Tammy, she doesn't always cave to his wishes. She'll get right in his face and threaten him and he'll actually do as she says most of the time. They are very supportive of each other. They are two people with a wonderful amount of chemistry and they are a joy to know. Their family is rounded out by their two children, Sherlock Jr. and Linda and who knows how many more little blessings are going to come around after tonight."

"Oh, definitely lot's more John." Sherlock said loudly, and everyone laughed as I blushed.

"Sherlock." I hiss.

"_And_ if we weren't stuck here, we'd at our hotel making another set of twins!"

"Sherlock!" I shriek in embarrassment. "Will you shut up?"

"Sorry."

"No you're not!"

As I was saying," John said quickly. I glower at Sherlock; he smirks and toys with my hand. I try yanking my hand free, but he won't let me go. He grins broadly as I give in and turn back to John. "they say that there is no surprise as magical as finding your life's mate in life. You two must feel the magic, even while you're quarreling, because it seems as if your happiness emanates from you on this very magical day! I really feel that I would be remiss if I did not just give you a couple of pieces of advice. However, though, Sherlock, these are 100% directed at you."

"Why me?" Sherlock asks. "Why always me?"

"First, never go to bed angry…always stay up and argue. Second, always remember the three little words, I love you. Those are the hardest words for you to say, but for Tammy's sake, do say it a bit more. Even if you record it and leave on her phone for her to play. Thirdly, the best way to remember your anniversary is to forget it once! However, since you two have remarried, you'll have two anniversaries' to remember now!" Everyone laughs and I elbow Sherlock. "Let's raise our glasses as we toast this couple: May you both live as long as you want, and never want as long as you live."

I kicked Sherlock under the table. "What?"

"Oh for heaven's sake, aren't you at least going to shake his hand?"

"Fine." Sherlock huffed, but he did as I asked. He not only shook John's hand, but also gave him an awkward around the shoulder hug. "Thanks John." I smile as I watch the two men. Truly, they were best friends. Sherlock cleared his throat. "And now, I've got a surprise for my wife." Everyone murmured as Sherlock pulled me from my chair. "I cheated her out of this on our first wedding and I wish to make it up to her." Sherlock walked over to my MP3 player and selected an unfamiliar song. I frowned as Sherlock stepped back, bowed and held out his hand. I covered my mouth as he asked. "May I have the honor of this dance with you?"

I could only nod as tears flowed down my cheeks. Everyone gasped and applauded as Sherlock pulled me close. _I was a fool to ever leave your side. _I inhale as he rested his head against mine for a moment. I stand there, relishing the moment. _Me minus you is such a lonely ride. That break-up we had has made me lonesome and sad. I realize I love you cause I want you back, hey-hey. _Sherlock pulled me into dance position and we began dancing. It was Nightclub 2-Step, my favorite dance. _I spent the evening with the radio. Regret the moment that I let you go. Our quarrel was such a way of learning so much. I know now that I love you cause I need your touch, hey-hey. _

_Reunited and it feels so good. Reunited cause we understood. There's one perfect fit and sugar this one is it. _Sherlock twirled me around, wrapping me into the 'sweetheart position.' This was always my favorite dance position. It not only looked impressive, but it felt wonderful. _We both are so excited cause we're reunited, hey-hey. I sat here staring at the same old wall. Came back to life just when I got your call. I wished I could climb right through the telephone line. And give you what you want so you would still be mine, hey-hey. I can't go cheating honey, I can't play. I found it very hard to stay away. _

_As we reminisce on precious moments like this. _Sherlock spun me towards him, stopping me short, capturing my face in his hands. I struggle to breathe at the passion blazing, unrestrained in his eyes. _I'm glad we're back together cause, I missed your kiss, hey-hey. _Sherlock pulled my face towards his and he kissed me. _Reunited and it feels so good. _Heat filled me at this kiss. _Reunited cause we understood._ It was unlike any other kiss he'd given me. It was unrestrained, unafraid of showing everyone in the room that he loved me. His hands circled my hips and he lifted me up, making this a movie worthy kiss._ There's one perfect fit and sugar this one is it_ That searching tongue of his searched my mouth anxiously, I ran my hands through his hair as the whistles and cheers loudly pervaded the room. _. We both are so excited cause we're reunited, hey-hey._

I felt rather giddy and drunk with love as Sherlock pulled back. "Happily reunited Mrs. Holmes?"

"Definitely, Mr. Holmes."


	13. 13: I will be loved tonight

Chapter Thirteen

I will be loved tonight

I feel a little uneasy as Sherlock and I enter our hotel room for the night. It had been two years and though I was looking forward to him, I was still somewhat conscious about my body. After all, I had twins and I knew that I'd been able to gain any weight to fill myself out better. Sherlock's parents were staying in our flat for the night, taking advantage of our 'honeymoon' to grant us a night together.

Sherlock slams the door shut, disrupting my thoughts, whips me around to capture me in a kiss. I drop my overnight bag and grab onto his coat, instinctively helping him out of his coat. I back up, crashing into a table, flailing backwards. Sherlock doesn't seem to care that he's got me on a table instead of a bed.

I grab his hand. "Wait." I mumble against his mouth. "Wait a minute."

He groans and looks down at me. "Let me guess…too fast?"

"No. In spite of what you believe, I was kinda expecting you to do something like that." I pat his chest gently at the look of disappointment on his face. "I'd like to freshen up first."

He stares down at me with a disbelieving expression. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. Let me up."

"You are aware that I really want to tear this dress off you?"

I nod. "Yes, but I'd like this dress for another occasion. Hand me my bag, please."

Sherlock exhaled and got off me. "Fine." I smoothed my dress, straightened up and took my bag that he extended towards me. "Thank you."

"I'll wait…again." He makes a face as he tugs off his tie. "Try not to take too long."

"And hang up your clothes." I headed towards the bathroom. "I'll be out as soon as I feel like it!"

Sherlock snorted as I closed turned on the light, closed the bathroom and opened up my bag. I'd purchased white negligee for my first wedding, but Sherlock had insisted on helping me out of my dress and told me that I didn't need it. I was planning on wearing on our first anniversary, but since that never happened; our second wedding night would be the perfect occasion. I smiled contentedly as I got out of my dress, hanging it up.

Sherlock tapped on the door. "Need any help getting out of your dress?"

"No. I just slide out of it." I shake my head. "Thank you for the offer."

Sherlock lets out an inaudible sound on the other side of the door. After applying my lipstick, I begin absent-mindedly humming, then softly scatting before breaking out into song. _Well, pop the champagne break out the cologne, _I slide the negligee over my head and smooth it down. _turn up the moonlight and turn off the phone. Well, what a surprise, a man is in sight and I will be loved tonight. _

"Getting anxious?" Sherlock teased on the other side of the door.

I shake my head and continue singing. _To fondle his skin, to savor his lips; to nozzle his chin, to move with his hips. Our words will be soft as we softly ignite. _I reach for my hairbrush; begin brushing my hair with a broad smile on my face._ And I will be loved, tonight! You can go from week from week; you can from year to year. _I set my brush aside and reach for the perfume I wore on my first wedding night, 'Phantom of the opera' and sprayed myself heavily. _Not a hand placed on your cheek, not a whisper in your ear. You can make it through ok, you can live and laugh and flirt. _I stand up and walk towards the bathroom door. _It's quite easy in the day…it's just the nights that always… hurt. _

I open the door and smile to find Sherlock sitting on the bed, clad only in his boxers, impatiently drumming his fingers on his bare legs. He stands up, surprise in his eyes at my choice of outfits today. He stands up and holds out his hand for me. "You're just full of surprises tonight aren't you?"

I nod and approach him; the song is almost over so I decide to finish singing. _So let darkness come, cause that will be fine. _He shakes his head as I smile at him. _For I'll have a soul entangled with mine,_ I take his hand and he pulls me towards him. _ we'll do as we please. _I look up into Sherlock's dazzling eyes. _So please hold me tight. _His arms eagerly press me tightly against him. _ For I will be loved, I will be loved. _Sherlock's hands massaged my hips for a few moments._ Yes! _My 'yes' came out a little more enthusiastic than planned and Sherlock gave me an amused smile. _I will be loved, _my voice softened and my heart rate sped up. Y_es, loved, _he brushes my hair back from my face._ tonight._

He leans forward and kisses me on the mouth. I smile and bring my hand up to stroke his face. He breaks the kiss and murmurs against my forehead. "You must know every song on the face of this earth."

I smile and wrap my arms around his waist. I feel his skin tremble under my touch. "Kiss me Sherlock, please."

Sherlock leaned forward. "Your wish….is my command."

I inhaled and closed my eyes as Sherlock's lips tenderly claimed mine. Or at least it was supposed to be tender. The moment our lips met, fire burned my soul seized my overflowing heart. I deepened the kiss slightly, inviting him to officially take me as he wanted. I was ready now. His grip on my waist slid down to cup my hips in his hands before lifting me up from the ground. His lips grew more passionate as I wrapped my legs around his waist. The feelings that we'd been attempting to fight for weeks grew like a huge bubble and burst. With every breath, sigh and kiss, the emotions turned into something that frightened and fueled both of us.

My body reacted to his as his hand crept up towards my breast. I leaned deeper into his exploring hand. Sherlock instantly reacted and began backing me up towards the bed. Moments later, we were on the bed. Sherlock nudged me backward towards the head of the bed, not breaking contact until my head thumped on the headboard.

"Sorry." He said breaking the kiss.

"I'm ok." I assured him.

His gaze and hands moved down to my negligee. I observed his hands were trembling as he drew it up and over my head, leaving me completely exposed to his gaze. His hands hesitated on the waistband of my underwear. "Tell me to stop," he said tightly, his voice tells me that he is straining for control, but a part of him is remembering to consider my feelings. "and I will."

"Don't you dare stop. Please continue." Sherlock obliged me and I wrapped my legs around his waist, smiling at him teasingly, after he'd removed my underwear. "Now…make love to me Mr. Holmes. This isn't our first wedding night, so do try to make it interesting."

He looked deeply into my eyes, studying me closely before removing the last piece of clothing on his person. True, this was our second marriage, but there was still some unease with both of us, understandably. But then the moment we looked at each other, all restraint, unease and thoughts of taking it easy just evaporated out the window! Heat filled me as Sherlock kissed me; his tongue invading my mouth. I moaned as heat and sensations tore my body. His mind ordered me to submit to him, so I did, I moved my legs aside, inviting him in.

I did feel some pain as Sherlock entered me, but I didn't care. Tears filled my eyes, I don't know why. Maybe it was because I'd thought I'd never feel Sherlock within me again and the feeling was so wonderful. But he didn't move, he remained completely still."

I opened my eyes to see a triumphant look came over his face. "Mine." His voice was a low growl that sent shivers all over me. He gave a hard thrust and I cried out. "You are mine." I bucked against Sherlock, asking for him to continue. "You want more?" He teased me darkly.

"Yes!"

"Beg me." He ordered.

I stared at him in amazement. "What?"

"Beg me." He repeated his demand. "You need me to ensure that you orgasm, so if you want it, beg me for it."

I lick my lips. "Please."

"Please what?"

"Sherlock, please."

He snapped. "Sherlock please what?"

"Make love to me!" I snapped back at him.

"How?" He hissed. "Tell me Tammy."

I groan. "Oh for God's sake. Fine!" I'd had enough of this game. "Take me, ravish me, kiss me, and use me anyway you want, just move it!"

He didn't hesitate in fulfilling my demands. Those hands of his were everywhere on me! His lips sent me to heaven and my mind was a fevered blur, as his thrusts grew deeper. Even after two years, Sherlock knew exactly which spot caused me to cry out his name in whimpers. I buried my face in his neck, breathing in his cologne deeply. He grabbed a hold of my hair, turned my face towards his. He bit my lower lip and I clenched tighter around him. My fingers dug into him, clinging onto him for dear life as he moved faster inside me. My cries filled the room with Sherlock's shout of triumph as we came together in unbridled satisfaction.

I gasped for air as he breathed hot air on my neck. I ran my hand down his scarred back, which had a fine sweat on it now. I smiled as I ran my hair through his curls. Sherlock lifted his head from my neck, placing two sweet, gentle and brief kisses on my mouth. "You are…so beautiful."

I smile at him before returning his kisses. "You are….amazing."

He doesn't look convinced. "Mediocre at best."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't argue with your wife. I've missed this for two years, it was…perfect."

"That's the difference with us Tammy." He explained, that rapid deduction tone creeping into his voice. "You've been missing it; I on the other hand have been looking forward to it. I've had two whole years to think of all sorts of things that I was going to do once I had you under me." He threatened and I flushed red at the animalistic look in his eyes as he moved to possess my lips. "By the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember your own name! And believe me…you won't!"


	14. 14: King for a day

Chapter Fourteen

King for a day

I awoke to find myself with my head nestled against Sherlock's chest. He was running his hands through my hair, talking softly, words that I couldn't quite make out. I turned so I was lying on my back, looking upwards at him. "Good morning."

"Afternoon is more like it." He leaned forward and kissed me. Almost instantly, the flame between us was ignited. I groaned as he grabbed me around my waist, lifting me up so I was straddling him. I moaned and moved against him. Someone banged on the door and we both groaned. "It's John." Sherlock bit out. "It's always John!"

I laugh, crawl off his lap, grab my negligee from where it's been placed on my nightstand then I pull it back over my head. "Get the door."

"Fine." He got up, mumbling under his breath as he got into his robe.

"I'll order lunch, then."

No sooner had I gotten off the phone with room service did Sherlock stomp back into the room carrying the editorial pages of the book john and I were going to publish. "So," he said depositing the pages on the bed. "you and John were writing up my cases?"

I nodded. "Yes. Want to proof read them?"

"I'd have preferred to not to that on our honeymoon. But he said the editor was threatening to bring it down here to us. And John thought that it was better that he bring it to us instead of the editor. How does he even know where we are?"

"A friend of Mycroft's."

Sherlock made a face. "Stupid pick as an editor. I'll pay him a visit and get you two some more time." He said as he climbed into the bed with me, reaching for two pens inside his nightstand. We snuggled close together and I reached for the pages. "Why not? You guys probably left everything of importance out."

I laugh and we begin browsing through the papers. Sherlock grabbed the dedication page, his eyes narrowed as he read the words there. I flushed and looked down at the covers, the words I'd written were very personal and I felt slightly embarrassed that he was reading them. I'd written them in a special moment, our anniversary, and it was very personal. At the time, I hadn't minded it definitely persuaded the readers that I was believed in his innocence and I dared anyone to doubt the love I'd shared with him.

Sherlock didn't say a word, but he folded that paper up and tucked it into his nightstand. He kissed my forehead and continued reading through the book. Occasionally, he'd write something in, a detail that we'd missed, or he'd cross something about himself out. He kept his hand on my shoulder the entire time we speed-read the book together.

We would have stayed in bed all day if Sherlock hadn't suggested a walk. Of course, we had to take a shower and it wasn't a short rinse off as was planned. Sherlock evidentially just loved the feel of my skin when I was wet and after not having made love together for two years, both of us were starving for each other. Then we went out for lunch in the park, Sherlock actually held my hand, swinging it back and forth between us. It wasn't a beautiful day, it was dark and gloomy, but to be walking with him again, it was like walking in heaven.

I began humming the song that we danced to. "Like that song?"

I nodded. "I love it. It was the perfect song choice Sherlock. You surprised me, many times yesterday."

We took refuge under a willow tree. I lean back against the tree. "I don't know. You surprised me as well." He leans forward and murmurs in my ear. "You looked very, very sexy all day and night yesterday." I flush and he laughs. "I love it when you do that."

"Do what?"

"You always flush when I call you sexy." My ear tips heat up and Sherlock chuckles. "See?"

"Well, it's your fault!" he looks at me indignantly. "Well, your voice just makes everything sound so….dirty!" he laughs loudly. "Well you do! You could make the phonebook sound like the most romantic thing ever!"

"Flattering." He rests his head against mine. "You do look sexy though."

"I had twins." I reminded him.

"And they made quite an improvement to your figure."

"I'm glad I looked….sexy to you." I groaned and hissed. "Why am I discussing this kind of material in a park with you?"

"Because there's no one around."

"It's not proper. Well, what do you care what improper? You can show up dressed in a bed sheet at Buckingham Palace."

"And you're the one who goes around displaying your assets every time you want to make me jealous."

"I only tried to make you jealous once and as you recall, it ended with you proposing to me!"

"So you say. You were sucking up to all those firemen that night."

"I was helping."

"Were you honestly feeling like you were going to throw up before I kissed you?" He asked. "Or did you just write that in for fun?"

"No." I shook my head. "I was tired, excited and a dozen other things. But that has nothing to do with making you jealous!"

"Are you forgetting that black cocktail dress?" He steps closer, taking my wrist in his, reading my pulse as he whispered hotly. "And that moment in the library?" A moan slipped out of my lips and Sherlock grinned. "I see you haven't. Mycroft was very upset that you only had eyes for me."

"The man looks like he sucks pickles."

"You didn't think much of me when we first met."

"That was then; this is now, different story. Change the subject."

"Right, can't afford setting you off on our last day together. Tomorrow we have to go back to the real world."

"Yes, and I've got some Christmas shopping to do for the kids, your parents, Mrs. Hudson, John, Mary, Molly and Greg."

Sherlock nodded. "Indeed."

"Don't worry." I said. "I'll pick out several presents that we can give to everyone together."

"I wasn't thinking about others. I was thinking about you."

"I've got you back." I said. "I don't need another present from you."

He shrugs. "Fine. Do you want me to wrap myself up in that ridiculous string and all?"

I laugh. "No! Still, that is an amusing picture if you think about it!"

I shivered slightly and Sherlock noticed. "Back to hotel for you."

"Back to the hotel or back to the hotel bed?" I teased him with an arched brow.

He smiled slyly down at me. "I think the hotel bed; you look like you definitely need to be warmed up."

"Indeed. I'd like some nice cocoa too."

Sherlock shook his head. "I've had a taste of you and drinks in bed on our honeymoon before. No thanks!"

I rolled my eyes. "Sorry, I just wasn't used to waking up in a man's bed, even if it was with my husband."

"Understandable. Someday," he said as he wrapped his arm around my waist. "I'll take you on a real honeymoon."

"That sounds lovely," I sigh. "but, we've been down this road so many times Sherlock. I doubt we're ever going to find the time."

"Sorry I couldn't be attached to a more boring job, if I did, I could take the time to give you a proper honeymoon."

"And if you had a boring job than you wouldn't be Sherlock Holmes, I'd be married to the wrong man! Don't worry," I assured him. "I'm certain that for the next two weeks you'll make up for the honeymoon." Sherlock chuckled darkly. "Besides I don't think we could get away for a honeymoon anyway. Especially now that we've got children. I don't even like leaving them alone even for two nights."

"My parents love this kind of thing, don't know why." He nodded. "But I see what you mean, that kinda does put a damper on things."

"Are you sorry?" I asked him quietly. "Sorry that you got me pregnant?"

He frowned. "Why would you think that?"

"If I hadn't been pregnant…we could do things more freely. We wouldn't have to worry about them."

Sherlock shrugged. "Well, it was bound to happen, you're a little… arduous to impregnate immediately, but it would have happened anyway. No, I'm not sorry. Besides, it was a wish you wanted and it was one that gave me extreme pleasure to fulfill."

I blush. "You do say such deliciously dirty things at times. In fact, you're being rather sweet and romantic lately."

"Well, you did remarry me. Figured that I owed you several moments to make up for all the ones we set apart. I do regret that I wasn't here for you and the children for two years. They seem to be adjusting to me nicely."

"Yes. Sherlock knew Charles wasn't his father. I don't know how."

"He's my son isn't he?"

I nod. "Yes, but he was there and you weren't."

"Children sometimes get a sense of these things. Probably noticed the lack of actual affection between the two. Not to mention, Charles didn't resemble either of them in any way, shape or form."

"And Linda takes after me I assume? She's not going to be as bright?"

His brow arched. "On the contrary, she's going to be more intelligent than Sherlock, you wait and see!"


	15. 15: The best man

Chapter Fifteen

The best man

_One month later,_

John and Mary were going to be getting married three months from now on April 5th. Sherlock was kinda excited, even though he tried not to show it. John and Mary, unlike Sherlock and I were going to have a huge wedding. Sherlock and I helped out where we could. Sherlock even put a few of his cases on hold, unless something interesting came up.

Sherlock again, was fighting his smoking addiction, thanks to his undercover work. So he was relatively a little cranky. Today, he was entertaining little Sherlock at the kitchen table. And when I mean entertaining, he was using a blowtorch to melt an eyeball. Now, I didn't like the idea, but as long as he wasn't complaining, I was fine with it.

"Sherlock?" John said as he entered the flat. "Tammy?"

"Hello John." Linda squeals happily and 'runs' towards John, she winds up tripping and falling flat on her face. But she bounces right up again and hugs his leg.

"Uncle John." She gurgles.

"Hello princess."

Sherlock scowls at him. "That's _my _nickname for her."

"Sorry." John says apologetically before dislodging himself from Linda's octopus arms.

Sherlock asks. "What was that noise downstairs?"

John turns to enter the kitchen. "Er, it was Mrs. Hudson laughing."

Sherlock made a face. "Sounded like she was torturing an owl."

"Sherlock." I comment, suggesting that he speak a little nicer.

"Yeah." John said. "Well, it was laughter."

Sherlock observed. "Could have been both."

John takes a look at what he's doing and I can tell by the look on his face he's wondering how Sherlock talked me into allowing him to make eyeball smores on my dinner table. "Busy?"

Sherlock sighs heavily. "Just occupying myself. Sometimes, it's sooo hard not smoking."

"But you promised me." I reminded him.

"Indeed I did."

"Ahh, so that's why Tammy's letting you roast eyeballs."

I nod. "No smoking, it's bad for brainwork. And until all humans develop their brains to Sherlock's level, his brain must be kept in the best of health."

The eyeball slips out of Sherlock's tweezers and drops into his mug of tea. I grimace and begin making him a fresh cup. John nods. "Mind if I interrupt?"

Sherlock puts the tweezers down and gestures towards a chair. "Be my guest." He then switches off the blowtorch. Little Sherlock pouts and frowns unhappily. Sherlock picks up the mug, with the eyeball and offers it to him. "Tea?"

John shakes his hand to ward off the offensive cup of tea. Sherlock puts the mug down and takes off his safety glasses. John sits down, I can tell that there's something on his mind. "So, the big question."

Sherlock nods, not completely interested in what John has to say. "Mm-hm."

John folds his hands and places them on the table. "The best man."

I get it instantly, but Sherlock doesn't. "The best man?" he asks.

John says. "What do you think?"

Sherlock replies instantly. "Billy Kincaid."

John and I both frown. "Sorry, what?"

"Billy Kincaid, the Camden Garrotter, best man I ever knew. Vast contributions to charity, never disclosed." Sherlock is so busy making his deductions that he doesn't realize that John is frowning. "Personally managed to save three hospitals from closure and ran the best and safest children's homes in north England." Sherlock grimaces briefly. "Yes, every now and again there'd be some garrotings, but stacking up the lives saved against the garrottings, on balance I'd say-

John finally interrupts him "For my wedding! For me, I need a best man."

Sherlock nods. "Oh, right."

"Maybe not a Garrotter."

"Gavin?" Sherlock offers.

John frowns. "Who?"

"Gavin Lestrade?" I moan in aggravation. "He's a man, and good at it."

"It's Greg, and he's not my best friend."

"For a man with such a brilliant mind, how come you can't even remember Greg's first name? The cigarette damage must have taken its toll on your brain in that little area!"

Sherlock ignores me and continues with his deductions. "Oh, Mike Stamford, I see. Well, he's nice, um, though I'm not sure how well he'd cope with all-

"No, Mike's great, but he's not my best friend." Sherlock looks at him as if he can't think of another friend to suggest. Even though it's plain as the nose on his face that Sherlock is his best friend. "Look, Sherlock, this is the biggest and most important day of my life."

Sherlock is somewhat dubious at this point. "Well."

"No, it is!" John says as I draw myself up indignantly. "It is, and I want to be up there with the two people that I love and care about most in the world."

Sherlock agrees. "Yes."

John nods. Sherlock is still oblivious as he stands there, waiting for john to tell him who these people are. "Mary Morstan."

"Yes."

John sighs tightly. "And," he glances up at Sherlock, who is still waiting patiently for further information. Finally, John confesses. "you." Sherlock blinks rapidly several times but other than that, he doesn't move or react. In fact, Sherlock is perfectly motionless. "Sherlock?" but Sherlock doesn't react. He's like frozen in time, staring blindly out into space. The silence drags on for long seconds. "That's getting a bit scary now."

"Oh for God's sake," I throw my rag at him. "Sherlock, John asked you to be his best man!"

Sherlock snaps out of it and but he doesn't seem to notice the rag on his shoulder. "So, in fact," he pauses for a moment. "you, you mean-

"Yes."

"I'm your," John nods. "best-

Sherlock's voice dies and John finishes the sentence for him. "man."

But Sherlock speaks the same time as John does. "Friend?"

"Yeah, of course you are. Course you're my best friend." He smiles.

"Obviously." I mutter as Sherlock absent-mindedly picks up the mug from the table and raises it towards his mouth. "Sherlock!" I shout a moment too late as he takes a long drink and then swallows. I groan and shudder with disgust.

John stares at Sherlock. "Well, how was that?"

Sherlock licks his lips, thinks about it for a moment, and then nods. "Surprisingly okay."

My stomach begins churning violently at the thought of an eyeball floating around in my tea. I approach Sherlock with a fresh cup of tea as John continues speaking. "So you'll have to make a speech, of course."

Sherlock's brain goes offline again for a moment. "What?" I take the mug out of his hand, but make the mistake of looking down to see the eyeball floating on the surface of the tea. I gag; drop the mug, shattering it as I bolt for the bathroom. "Tammy?" I make it to the toilet just in time to loose my breakfast. After several retching moments, I straighten up, wipe my mouth with some toilet paper, and then flush the mess I've made away. I turn around and bump smack into Sherlock. He hands me a glass of water. "Rinse your mouth."

"Thank you." I say hoarsely as I turn towards the sink. "I hate vomiting."

"You should be used it by now," he stated casually as he pulled out my toothbrush and put some toothpaste on it. "after all, you had twins."

"But that wasn't recent and I didn't have time to notice how crummy I was feeling since I felt crummy enough." I began swishing the water around in my mouth. Sherlock waited patiently for me to finish before handing me my toothbrush. "Thank you." I brush my teeth vigorously as Sherlock stands over me. Urgh, toothpaste tastes terrible.

I spit the disgusting foam out and begin to rinse my mouth. "Most dentists require that you brush for-

"I know Sherlock, you're not my dentist. I shudder. "Ugh, that is so disgusting."

He spins me around. "I removed the offensive object from your sight, so you can come back out."

I smile. "Thank you." He leans forward to kiss me, but I turn my head. "No, I must taste-

Sherlock kisses me anyway. I groan as he smiles against my mouth. I shake my head as he breaks the kiss to touch his forehead to mine. "You taste fine."

I shake my head. "You're incorrigible." I step past him and head to the door. "Now, I've got to get some groceries, watch the kids and try to stay out of trouble for a few minutes."

The grocery list wasn't a big one. I just needed some bread, milk, eggs and a few other items like that. I couldn't have been gone more than fifteen minutes. I was approaching the flat when I noticed a car careening down the street, speeding crazily. I stared as Greg jumped out of the car as he parked it haphazardly.

"Greg?" I ask. "What's wrong?"

"Sherlock's in trouble!" he shouts as he runs up the stairs.

"What!?" I shriek. "How?"

"Don't know!" Greg and I race up the stairs and into the living room. Greg stops short and I crash into the back of him to see Sherlock sitting at the dining table, with his laptop, fingers pressed deeply into his temples. "What's going on?" Greg gasps out.

Sherlock doesn't even look up. "This is hard."

"What?" Greg and I are stunned. I'm still trying to get my breath back.

"Really hard. Hardest thing I've ever had to do." He picks up a book and holds it up to show Greg. The book is called "How to write an unforgettable best man speech". He must have popped out to the corner bookstore to get it. "Have you any funny stories about John?"

Greg and I stare at him in disbelief. Outside, I can hear police cars approaching. "What?!" Greg says.

Sherlock puts the book down and looks up at us. "I need anecdotes." He then seems to notice our stunned expressions. "Didn't go to any trouble, did you?"

Greg can only stares at him. Outside I can hear an ambulance and a helicopter approaching. Sherlock's eyes shift as he slowly becomes aware of the noise outside. The curtains behind him billow as the helicopter hovers low, knocking some sheet music off the stand. Linda and Sherlock immediately go towards the window and peer outside.

Greg closes his eyes in exasperation. "Eighteen months." He bites out. "Eighteen months."

"Greg," I reply as controlled as I can. "what made you think Sherlock was in trouble?"

"This." Greg hands me his phone. I stared at the text that Sherlock had sent Greg. It was all in capital letters. _HELP. BAKER ST. NOW. HELP ME. PLEASE. _"I finally get set up to catch the entire Walter's family in action and you pull this on me! Now Jones will get all the credit!"

"Sherlock!" I scold him as I set the groceries down on the counter and begin pulling them out. "How could you!? Greg's been working so hard."

"I needed help." He stated. "I didn't say to call in the all of Scotland Yard!"

I scream and throw the egg at Sherlock. It splashes against his head. "Ohh, you egghead! You _never _need help! And you made it seem so urgent! Didn't anyone ever tell you about the boy who cried wolf?"

Sherlock shrugged as he wiped off his face calmly. "Stupid little story, didn't see much point in it. And why are you throwing eggs Tammy? That's a waste of food and I'm sure the chicken's don't appreciate it."

I shriek. "Shut up! Just…shut up!" He begins laughing at me. "Oh, don't you start that! I am not speaking do you again? Do you hear me!?"

"I did." He stands up and walks towards the kitchen to get some paper towels to wipe the egg out of his hair. "But I thought you said you weren't speaking to me again!"

"I'm not!"

"Then stop talking to me!"

Linda let out a shriek and I turn to see Sherlock jr. biting her finger. He's chomping down on her finger like she's a carrot. I walk over and slap his hand. "No. Don't do that." He lets out a howl of bloody murder and I groan. "Now look what you started!"

Sherlock stared at me. "What _I _started!? As I seem to recall it was your idea to have kids in the first place!"

"But I didn't hold a gun to your head and force the issue."

"Oh stop it Tammy, you know you rather enjoyed the whole process."

I opened my mouth to say something, but I find myself rather struck dumb at his outrageously true comment. The only thing that comes out of my mouth is. "I hate you."

Sherlock flinches for a second and leans forward. "What was that?"

"I said, I hate you."

He frowns and walks towards me, his eyes deducing my body language. "You hate me…and then you remarry me. I don't see the logic in that statement."

"I hate you," I bite out. "because you're _always _right the whole, bloody, time."

Relief rolls off Sherlock's shoulders. "Good." He leans down and kisses my forehead. "Now why don't you offer Greg a cup of tea?"

I nod and stand up, without his assistance. "How about it Greg?" a quick glance at him and I change my offer. "I've got some wine stashed away somewhere. Would you prefer that?"

He shakes his head.

I move Sherlock over and go onto his Twitter page that we both operate. He crosses his arms and watch as I tweet. _Greg Lestrade captures the Walters Bank gang in action. Congratulations inspector! Our money is finally safe to remain in our banks! _I hit enter and Sherlock frowns. "That's not exactly true you know."

"Oh shut up." I said. "You robbed him from his chance, it's the least you can do."

"Yeah, but what am I going to do when I start getting questions about Jones?"

I hastily tweet another one off. _You'll read about an inspector Jones getting the credit. But Lestrade left to help me out in a critical situation before making the arrest. What else are friends for? Jones may make the arrest, but Lestrade definitely deserves the credit for finally capturing these men! _

I hit enter and cross my arms and look down at him. "There! Now if you get anymore excuses, you should write them off. Greg worked hard and he deserves to get the credit."

"It took him eighteen months."

"Well, excuse us, we can't all be you. And if everyone in the world was like you there wouldn't be a moment's peace!"


	16. 16: Sickeningly, sweet, psychopath

Chapter Sixteen

Sickeningly, sweet, psychopath

Mary made the biggest mistake in the world. She asked Sherlock to be their wedding coordinator. Well, it was a great job and Sherlock would look forward to the challenge, but I knew there was going to be an issue. Sherlock loved being in control of things and he was definitely going to make a mess out of their wedding. Or at least that's what my opinion was, until I saw him in action. He thought of every little detail and handled it with grace, well about as much grace as a bull in a china shop.

But then I changed my tune when I came home one afternoon to find Sherlock sitting opposite a strange man, holding a pen. Both their heads whipped around to observe me. "Sorry." I said. "I didn't know you had a client."

Sherlock gave me a curt nod. "It's fine."

"So," the man asked. "what exactly are my duties as an usher?"

Sherlock puts the pen down and folds his hands, giving the man a sharp glare. "Let's talk about Mary, first."

"Sorry," the poor man was completely taken aback. "what?"

Sherlock leaned forward. "Oh, I think you know what. You went out with her for two years."

The man stammered and I walked over to peer over Sherlock's shoulder to review his notes. "Ahh, ages ago. We're... we're just good friends now."

"Is that a fact?" Sherlock sneered before looking down at his notes. "Whenever she tweets, you respond within five minutes regardless of time or current location, suggesting you have her on text alert." I close my eyes and rub my nose. "In all your Facebook photographs of the happy couple, Mary takes center frame whereas John is always partly or entirely excluded."

David attempts to laugh it off, but his laugh is very uncomfortable. "You can't assume from that I've still got some kind of interest in Mary."

Sherlock leans forward. "You volunteered to be a shoulder to cry on, on no less than three separate occasions. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

David opens his mouth but is unable to speak a single word. I exhale as I lean my hand onto his shoulder. "What am I going to do with you?"

Sherlock looks down and makes another note. "I think from now on we'll downgrade you to 'casual acquaintance'. No more than three planned social encounters a year, and always in John's presence." David nervously toys with the Sudokube on the desk. Sherlock puts the pen down and folds his hands, giving David an intense stare. "I have your contact details. I will be monitoring."

David stares at him wide-eyed. "They're right about you. You're a bloody psychopath."

I immediately jump to his defense. "Why you-

Sherlock reaches up and covers my mouth. "A high-functioning sociopath ...with your number." He grins maniacally at David before he drops his hands into that familiar prayer position. David looks down, then lets out a nervous breath and gets up and walks away. Sherlock picks up the Sudokube and puts it back into its proper position. "Boring."

"You…are such a psychopath."

Sherlock reached behind me and tugged me into his lap. "Psychopath?"

"No one can call you psychopath except for me, get it."

He kisses my cheek. "And am I as psychopath?"

I shake my head. "Not really. You're just….crazy."

"Yoo-hoo." Mrs. Hudson calls up the stairs. "Sherlock? There's an Archie and his mom here to see you."

"Right." I get up from Sherlock's lap. "I'll make them a cup of tea. What's this boy coming here for?"

Sherlock shrugs. "Pageboy and he doesn't want to do it."

I snicker. "Good luck Sherlock. He's probably going to be difficult." I stop and tilt my head. "Maybe I should bring out the boxing gloves."

One cue the children called me. Sherlock smirked. "Back to the kitchen mother."

"Shut up you psychopath."

So I found myself joining them both in coloring pictures. Well, Linda is much more interested in staring at Archie. Sherlock is sitting in his chair and Archie sitting in John's chair. Both of them are having a stare down contest together and frankly I can't tell whose winning.

Sherlock is the first to speak. "Basically it's a cute smile to the bride's side, cute smile to the groom's side and then the rings."

"No." Archie says stubbornly. I hear a tone that tells me he's just as stubborn as Sherlock."

"And you have to wear the outfit."

"No."

"You really do have to wear the outfit."

"What for?"

"Grown-ups like that sort of thing."

"Why?"

Sherlock pauses for a second. "I don't know. I'll ask one. Tammy?"

"It's a tradition Sherlock." I state. "And one cannot progress into the future without respecting the laws of tradition. Besides, when a friend ask you to do something for them, it's rude of you to refuse them. Especially on a very special day. "

"You heard her."

Archie says thoughtfully. "You're a detective."

"Yep." Sherlock pops the 'p' loudly.

"Have you solved any murders?"

"Sure. Loads."

"Can I see?"

Sherlock hesitates a moment before responding. "Yeah, all right."

They get up and go over to Sherlock's laptop. I can't see what they're looking at, but the boy definitely is interested. Archie leans in to get a closer look at whatever's on the screen. "What's all the stuff in his eye?"

My mother senses become instantly alert as Sherlock replies. "Maggots."

"Sherlock!" I shriek.

"Cool!"

Sherlock examines his interested face for a moment. "Mm!"

I walk over and slam the laptop lid down. "Gross. Sherlock, have you lost your mind?"

Sherlock flipped the lid up. "Continue Archie." I reach for the lid but Sherlock catches ahold of my wrists and moves me towards the bedroom. "Follow me."

"No! I will not!"

Sherlock smirked at Archie. "We'll be back in a moment. Continue!"

I growl as he drags me into the bedroom. "Don't even think about it!" I snap at him the minute the door closes behind us.

"About what?"

"About kissing me," his hand squeezes my hip and I grab his wrist. "or any of that! It always works and I want to talk to you."

He wraps his hands around my waist. "And we can't talk like this?"

"No."

"Now calm down. You've been flying off the handle lately."

"If I do it's because of the things you do. Sherlock! You cannot go around showing children pictures like that!"

"Why not?"

My mouth falls open. "He's not old enough!"

"I was looking at stuff like that when I was his age."

"And we see how well that turned out for you. For God's sake, are you going to show our children images like that when they're growing up?"

"The more familiar they are with pictures like that, the easier it'll be for them to deduce the situation."

I groan. "No you won't."

"Why not?"

"Because Sherlock, there's a time and a place for everything. I'd rather they not be exposed to the darker side of the world until they were older. Not to mention, this _is not _your child and as a mother, I know I wouldn't approve of anyone showing our children pictures of sexual intercourse." He started to open his mouth but I cut him off. "I know, there is a difference between violence and sex. But as I stated there's a time and place for everything."

He nods. "I get your point. All right, I won't show him anything else."

"Thank you." I turned and walked out of the room. "Now let's go, I left the children unguarded."

"They're fine. They're not screaming or anything."

He catches my hand and twirls my fingers. I smile. "You're sweet, you know?"

"One minute I'm a psychopath and the next I'm sweet. Which one am I?"

I would have answered him, but I happened to see the picture Archie was looking at on the laptop. A man, who's skull had been chopped into with an ax. The sight of the blood and brains was too much for me. I ran for the bathroom. It was a dry heave so nothing came up. I groaned and walked over to the sink.

"You're getting sick at everything these days." Sherlock observed.

"And…it's your entire fault." I gasped. "Between floating eyeballs, wedding stress, blood, brains and guts, it's a wonder I haven't plastered the walls a new color!"

He chuckles and rubs my shoulders. "So, sweet or psychopath?"

"Why don't I just call you a sickeningly, sweet, psychopath?"


	17. 17: Coordinating, a case and a possibili

Chapter Seventeen

Coordinating, a case and a possibility

"Need to work on your half of the church, Mary," Sherlock observed. "looking a bit thin."

Mary smiles. "Ah, orphan's lot, friends, that's all I have. Lots of friends."

Sherlock continues talking. "Schedule the organ music to begin at precisely 11.48."

"But the rehearsal's not for another two weeks." Mary said. "Just calm down."

"Calm?" Sherlock is indignant. "I am calm. I'm extremely calm."

I snort. "As calm as a one armed scuba diver in a shark fight." Sherlock glowers at me. "Sorry."

"Let's get back to the reception," Mary suggests. "Come on." Sherlock walks over to the table. Mary hands him an RSVP card. "John's cousin. Top table?"

Sherlock glances at the card. "Hates you, can't even bear to think about you."

Mary stares up at him in amazement. "Seriously?"

"Second class post, cheap card," he sniffs it and makes a face. "bought at a petrol station. Look at the stamp, three attempts at licking. She's obviously unconsciously retaining saliva."

"Ah, let's stick her by the bogs."

"Bogs?" I ask.

"Bathroom." Sherlock supplies.

"Oh yes." Mary leans closer to Sherlock. "Who else hates me?"

"Don't ask." I warn her.

Sherlock hands her a piece of paper with a long list of names on it. "Oh great, thanks!"

I frown. "Just what every bride wants to read."

John is looking at his phone. "Priceless painting nicked, looks interesting."

Mary is looking at paperwork on the table. "Table four?"

"Done."

John is chuckling at a case on the phone. "My husband is three people."

"Table five?" Mary asks

Sherlock looks at the list. "Major James Sholto, who he?"

"Oh, John's old commanding officer." Mary says. "I don't think he's coming."

"He'll be there." John said.

"Well," Mary says. "he needs to RSVP, then."

John replied firmly. "He'll be there." He continued reading from his phone. "My husband is three people." It's interesting. Says he has three distinct patterns of moles on his skin."

Sherlock stands up and speaks in his rapid deduction tone. "Identical triplets, one in half a million births, solved it without leaving the flat. Now, serviettes." He reaches under the coffee table and pulls out a tray with two serviettes folded into different shapes. "Swan or Sydney Opera House?"

Mary stares at him in amazement. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

Sherlock shrugs. "Many unexpected skills required in the field of criminal investigation-

I shake my head as Mary calls Sherlock on his lie. "Fibbing, Sherlock."

He continues with his fib. "I once broke an alibi by demonstrating the exact severity of-

"I'm not John." Mary reminds him. "I can tell when you're fibbing."

Sherlock groans in exasperation. "Okay, I learned it on Youtube."

"Opera House, please." She reaches into her trouser pocket. "Oh, hang on. I'm buzzing." She answers her phone. "Hello? Oh, hi, Beth!" Mary heads for the kitchen. "Yeah, yeah, don't see why not."

John stands up and looks directly at Sherlock. "Actually, if that's Beth, it's probably for me too. Hang on."

He heads for the kitchen, while Sherlock sits cross-legged on the floor. I smile at him as he begins making those serviettes. I shake my head. "Why don't you get John out of here?" I ask. "He's going crazy.'

Sherlock shrugs. "He's fine."

I nod. "Yes, and that means what?"

"Nothing."

Sherlock, I can tell, is actually terrified about the wedding. He's worried that John's marriage is going to change everything. So, he's trying to speed it up and get it over with. I frown and stand up. "Get John out of the house. Please."

I head upstairs to check on Linda and Sherlock in the nursery. Sherlock had a folding, attic ladder installed in his room so I could climb straight upstairs instead of climbing up the flat stairs. Also, if I was mad at him, I had no way to lock him out of the flat. It was in the bedroom, so I always kept my bedroom door shut so they couldn't get inside. I came in to find them playing happily together with their building blocks. They're so intent on their game that they don't even notice me. So I retreat and head back down the ladder.

I go back to 'wedding coordinator room' as I've dubbed our living room now. Sherlock is looking at John's phone with interest. "Uniform fetishist, all the nice girls like a soldier."

"It's sailor." John corrects him. "And Bainbridge thinks his stalker is a bloke. "Let's go and investigate. Please?"

Sherlock frowns. "Elite Guard."

"Forty enlisted men and officers."

"Why this particular Grenadier?"

"Maybe he's the cutest?" Sherlock glances up at me and I smile. "But I'm sure he's got nothing on you."

Sherlock looks back on his phone. "Curious."

"Now you're talking."

Sherlock hands john his phone back. "Okay."

They stand up and walk towards the doors just as Mary comes back into the room. "Bye."

John begins to stammer. "We're just going to ... I need, um, Sherlock to help me choose some, er, socks."

Sherlock almost blows it by saying. "Ties." Both the men shoot each other questioning looks.

Mary glances from one to the other. "Why don't we go with socks?"

"Yeah."

"I mean," Mary says. "you've got to get the right ones."

"Exactly," John says. "to go with my-

"Tie." Sherlock offers.

But John says. "Outfit."

Mary looks at John. "That'll take a while, right?"

John points towards the kitchen. "My coat in there?"

Yes!"

He walks into the kitchen and Mary and Sherlock step a little closer. Sherlock says quietly. "Just going to take him out for a bit…. run him."

Mary says. "I know. You said you'd find him a case!"

Sherlock nods and glances towards me. "Be home in time for supper and text me if you're going to be late. "Right."

He leans forward to kiss me as John comes through the kitchen doorway. "Come on, Sherlock."

Sherlock closes the distance and kisses me quickly. "Coming."

He turns and goes to exit the flat, then turns back to face Mary. She gives John and Sherlock double thumbs-up. Both men deduce that the thumb up is only for them, but I'm in a better position to see that she's signaling both. I can barely hold my laughter back until I hear the flat door slam shut.

I start laughing, as does Mary. "I thought they'd never leave!"

I shake my head. "I warned you about him."

Mary nodded. "Yes, but he's actually a good wedding coordinator. He could make a fortune."

"Yes, then I'd ask him for a divorce because I couldn't stand him as a wedding coordinator. They're such dreadful snobs."

Mary laughed. "Frankly, I don't know how you stand him."

I shrug. "Neither do I at times." I bite my lip and ask what's been on my mind. "Mary…could you…examine me?"

She frowns. "Are you sick?"

I shake my head. "No. I-I've been feeling rather sick lately." Her eyes narrow. "Throwing up in the mornings and such, Sherlock hasn't really noticed because he's so busy."

"You'd think _he'd _notice."

"We're too close; you can't always see everything up close." I exhale. "The thing is….I think I might be pregnant."

Mary stares at me. "Oh my! I don't know if I should congratulate you or sympathize with you."

"We don't even know if I'm pregnant or not, so shall we do both? And this time," I smirk. "if I am pregnant, Sherlock isn't going to miss out on it."

Mary frowned. "I hope he's not one of those terribly anxious fathers." My blood runs cold. "You know, worries about the mother's weight and whatever she's doing."

I groan. "Mary, start praying I'm not pregnant. Sherlock is a high, and I mean _high _functioning sociopath. And if I'm pregnant, I am not going to get a moment's peace!"


	18. 18: Stag party

Chapter Eighteen

Stag Party

All is silent. It's deafening. I can't stand it. Twins are asleep and I haven't seen or heard a word from Sherlock since he'd come back for supper. He was encouraging the children to have bad eating habits and unfortunately, they were listening to their father. No sooner had he finished dinner, did he immediately dash out again to have a stag party with John. I couldn't believe that he'd suggested it and the pattern of pubs they were going to be every pub where they'd found a dead body, 10-1, they'd get most of the drinks on the house. But Sherlock promised me he wouldn't get drunk, he'd deduced how much alcohol they'd consume so they'd be able to come home sober.

Mary had come over, just long enough to hand me a pregnancy test, which, to my utter, joy, dismay and horror….two pink lines showed up. I sat on the toilet seat in stunned silence before coming out of the room.

"So," Mary asked happily. "are you pregnant?" I turn the test towards her, as se squealed and danced happily. "Oh Tammy! How wonderful!"

I nod. "Wonderful."

She frowns at me. "Aren't you happy?"

"Happy?" I shake my head. "I'm going to have another baby and this time the father is going to be around. Don't you know what this means? No, of course you don't. He's going to make me stick to the diet John gives me. He's going to be constantly examining me for any subtle changes. He's going to read an entire book on the subject and take note of everything I shouldn't be doing! He's probably going to be testing my blood and urine to make sure I have enough the proper amount of calcium and whatever vitamins!" I begin laughing and crying. "Of course I'm happy!"

Mary hugs me. "I'm glad, for a minute I was sure you weren't happy."

"How can I not be happy?" I said. "This is the first time that I'm actually happy to be pregnant! When I had the twins I found out five minutes after Sherlock had jumped so I was devastated. This time…he's actually going to be here for me."

It was almost 11:00 when I'd finally heard a noise. I was in Sherlock flat, in my nightdress and robe, reading Jane Eyre and crying over it again. I set the book aside and went towards the door. I didn't see anyone, so I peered over the rail to see both boys on the bottom steps. John is on his back, looking upwards, with his arms folded; Sherlock is on his side facing the banisters.

Sherlock speaks, his speech definitely slurred. "I have an international reputation." He looks over his shoulder at John. "Do you have an international reputation?"

"No," I can tell John is drunk as well. But not as drunk as Sherlock, because he's used to alcohol. "I don't have an international reputation."

"No." Sherlock slurs. "And I can't even remember what for." At this point I have to cover my mouth to keep from laughing. He thinks for a second. "Sss...crime ... something or other."

I hear Mrs. Hudson's door opens and then her voice. "Oh, what are you doing back? I thought you were going to be out late."

"Ah, Hudders," Sherlock asks. "what time is it?"

"You've only been out two hours."

They both attempt to sit up, but they're wedged too tightly together. Sherlock falls off the step and thumps on his backside onto the next step down. I laugh and go straight back into the flat. I knew they were going to come in and I wasn't going to miss this! I grab the video camera that Sherlock had given me for Christmas and I set it up on the mantle piece.

It takes all my control to keep from laughing as those two drunken idiots stumble up into the room. I watch as they locate a bottle of whiskey, two glasses and settle into their chairs. They then begin to play Rizla and stick the paper on their foreheads. Sherlock had his own name on his forehead and John has 'Madonna' on his forehead.

John peers at him, trying to keep his eyes open. "Am I a vegetable?"

Sherlock is holding a glass of whiskey in one hand as he points at John. "You or the thing?"

I groan as they snicker. "Funny!" John says.

Sherlock looks down. "Thank you."

"Come on."

Sherlock responds in an almost sober tone. "No, you're not a vegetable."

"It's your go."

Sherlock drinks out of his glass. "Errr ... am I human?"

John said. "Sometimes."

"Can't have sometimes," Sherlock says. "has to be-

Sherlock is so drunk that he can't even pull himself up in his chair. "Yes, you're human."

Sherlock sets his glass down and leans back in his seat. "Yes, I know, okay." He leans woozily forward. "And am I a man?"

"Yep."

"Tall?"

John holds his hands out. "Not as tall as people think."

"Hmm. Nice?"

John shrugs. "Ish."

"Clever?"

"I'd say so."

"You would?" John chuckles. "Hmm, am I important?"

John stutters. "To some people."

"Do people," he makes drunken air-quotes "like me?"

"Er, no, they don't. You tend to rub them up the wrong way."

"Okay." Sherlock totally missed the clue that John gave him. John snorts as Sherlock slumps back in his chair before leaning forward again. "Am I the current king of England?"

"Are you," John cackles with laughter and I cover my mouth to keep my laughter inside me. This is going to be priceless. "you know we don't have a king?"

"Don't we?"

"No."

Sherlock sits back. "Your go."

John shifts forward and he almost falls out of his seat. Or at least he would have, had he not been able to use Sherlock's knee to push himself back into his seat. Sherlock look down at his hand as John pulls his hand away. "I don't mind." Sherlock shrugs it off. "Am I a woman?" Sherlock looks at him for a second, and then snorts out a laugh. The absurdity of the question almost causes me to laugh. "What?"

"Yes!"

"Am I ... pretty?" He points to the note on his forehead. "This."

"Beauty is a construct based entirely on childhood impressions," Sherlock sounds hysterically adorable when he's deducing while drunk. "influences and role models."

"Yeah, but am I a pretty lady?"

Sherlock leans forward and screws up his eyes, attempting to see better. "I don't know who you are." He confesses. "I don't know who you're supposed to be."

"You picked the name!"

Sherlock flails his arm. "But I picked it at random from the papers. Or….someone named….Tammy….who is Tammy?"

"Your wife."

"Wife…right. Tammy mentioned her once."

John slumps back in his seat. "You're not really getting the hang of this game, are you, Sherlock?"

Sherlock looks upwards towards his own Rizla, as if his eyes will allow him to read the note. "So I am human, I'm not as tall as people think I am," he sits back in his chair. "I'm-I'm nice-ish…clever, important to some people, but I tend to rub them up the wrong way." He laughs with delight. "Got it."

"Go on, then."

"I'm you, aren't I?"

Mrs. Hudson knocks on the open door. "Yoo-hoo! Client!"

I begin tucking my white robe around me more tightly, as much as I hate going out in my nightrobe but there has to be at least one sober mind out there!

"Hallo." John says drunkenly.

Sherlock waves at her. "Hallo!"

John gestures the woman into the room. "Come on."

The woman is a shy, nurse, possibly a private nurse. She shifts uncomfortably and asks. "Which one of you is Sherlock Holmes?"

Smiling broadly, John slowly raises his hand and points at Sherlock's forehead, making a loud whistling sound. Sherlock grins widely at her. I enter the room and all heads whip towards me. Sherlock stands up and sways slightly.

"Hello," I say as I approach the client. "my name is Tammy Holmes. And this," Sherlock leans over and plants a drunken kiss on my cheek and ear. "wobbly legged person is my husband." Sherlock kisses me on the mouth and I flush as he makes several loud smacking noises against my lips. I gently nudge him back. "Later. Client, remember?"

"Oh right!" he turns and walks over to his couch, surprisingly, without falling over anything.

I turn to the woman. "Sorry, they're a little tipsy."

She hesitates. "Shall I come back tomorrow?"

"No!" Sherlock says loudly. "There's no time like the present." He and John flop down on the couch. Sherlock claps his hands. "Now, tell us wass happened and don't be borning."

"Boring." I correct him.

"That's what I said! Borning."

I decide not to argue with him. He's impossible when sober and impossible when drunk! I am going to get him tomorrow!


	19. 19: Drunken happiness

Chapter Nineteen

Drunken happiness

I purposely arranged to have Tessa sits in a chair facing them, so that way her face was hidden from the camera. I didn't have time to turn it off and I had no idea what the two boys were going to get up to next.

Tessa began speaking hesitantly. "I don't ... a lot ... I mean, I don't ... date all that much." Sherlock sinks back on the sofa, his body language screaming 'bored' as best as it can its condition. "and ... he seemed ... nice, you know?"

I nod. "Yes."

"We seemed to automatically connect. We had one night," Tessa seems to go a little wishy-washy on us. "dinner, such interesting conversation. It was ... lovely." John smiles and glances briefly towards Sherlock, who is still showing no real interest. "To be honest, I'd love to have gone further," Sherlock's eyes drift close for a moment; I nudge him with my foot and his eyes open. "but I thought, 'No, this is special. Let's take it slowly." I nod as Sherlock leans forward, bracing his elbows on his legs. "Exchange numbers." Again, his eyes drift close. "He said he'd get in touch and then," she looks down sadly. "maybe he wasn't quite as keen as I was."

John is practically asleep with his eyes open. Sherlock, he looks like a fish out of water. I sympathetically pat her hand. "What strange creatures men are."

"But I, I just thought," she quickly becomes tearful. "at least he'd call to say that we were finished." She wipes her eyes. Sherlock's face fills with sympathy and for a moment I think he's about to cry. Then he frowns as if he's wondering where that emotion came from. I cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Tessa pulls herself together. "I went round there, to his flat." Sherlock has also recovered from his brief emotional state. "No trace of him. Mr. Holmes. I honestly think I had dinner ... with a ghost."

Neither of them reacts to what she just said, but a slight grunt comes from Sherlock. I roll my eyes; both men appear to be asleep. "Sherlock?" I call.

"Mr. Holmes?" Sherlock continues to snores and John's head drops lower. "With a ghost, Mr. Holmes!" Tessa says loudly.

Sherlock's head falls off his hands and he almost falls off the couch, muttering to himself. "Boring, boring, boring, no! Fascinating!" he turns to John. John, John, wake up!" He shakes John's leg and John opens his eyes. Sherlock turns to Tessa, his voice is still slurred. "Apologies about my," he points at John. "you know... him." I groan as he continues reprimanding John. "Rude. Rude!"

"Drunk." I mutter.

Tessa frowns slightly. "I checked with the landlord, and the man who lived there died. Heart attack. And there we are, having dinner one week on." She picks up her handbag and begins looking through it. "And I found this thing online, sort of chatroom thing," she hands a paper to Sherlock. "for girls who think they're dating men from the spirit world."

John has fallen asleep again. Sherlock stands up unsteadily. "Don't worry. I'll find him in ten minutes."

"Twenty minutes," I tell Tessa. "he's alert, just very, very slow."

"What's your dog's name?" Sherlock asks me.

I frown and say. "Sherlock Holmes."

He nods. "Got it."

John begins talking in his sleep. "Yeah, I'm there if you want it."

"John, wake up!" He shoves John's shoulder and John almost falls over sideways. "We're meant to," he snaps his fingers. "the game's," he waves his hand. "something."

John points at Sherlock. "On".

Tessa gasps excitedly and Sherlock nods. "Yeah, that, that!" He turns and wanders off to retrieve his coat.

Tessa stands up. "Okay!" John pushes himself to his feet and stumbles to retrieve his jacket.

"Keep an eye on them for me." I comment. "I don't want him getting into any trouble, though it sticks to him like fleas on a dog."

She nods. "Yeah, all right. They're actually kinda cute."

Sherlock stumbles towards me. I smile at Tessa. "Excuse me." I cross my arms. "You promised you wouldn't get drunk."

"I…am not drunk!" he states as he sloppily wraps his arms around my waist. "Well, maybe a little. But I'm fine!" Sherlock kisses me, missing my mouth and capturing the tip of my nose. He figures it out and moves to my mouth. "Don't move." I smile as he kisses my mouth. His breath is terrible, but the kiss isn't so bad. He stumbles forward and we both fall backwards onto the couch. "Uhhm," he tilts his head to the side. "you should put on more weight. You're like a feather….fall over too easy."

I laugh at him and give him a shove. "Go on! Solve that case and get back here in an hour!"

"I promise!"

* * *

_The following morning,_

* * *

I shake my head as I follow Greg back to wake Sherlock and John up from their escapades. Greg laughs. "I still can't believe you actually let him stay in jail overnight!"

"He was drunk and I don't want the children exposed to that sort of thing. Besides," I shift a shoulder casually. "I didn't want him vomiting on the carpet. Better he does that in jail where I don't have to clean it up."

Greg laughs. "He threw up all ready, at the crime scene."

"He is going to be so ticked off with himself." I laugh. "I've got this video of John and Sherlock drunk. I'll send it to you, but you didn't get it from me."

He nods as he inserts the keys into the lock. "I understand. I don't think I've ever, seen him drunk."

I laugh. "It's adorable."

"That's another word I don't associate with Sherlock."

"I'm his wife. So of course he's adorable."

"Wakey-wakey!" Greg shouts cheerfully as he throws the cell door open.

John is up against the wall, grimacing in pain. "Oh my God."

I step inside the cell to see Sherlock is on his back and fast asleep on a bench. I shake my head and approach him. "Idiot."

"Greg." John asks blindly. "Is that Greg?"

"Get up," he orders. "I'm gonna put you two in a taxi. Tammy and I managed to square things with the desk sergeant." John climbs painfully to his feet as Greg laughs. I climb up on Sherlock, my legs straddling him. He's still fast asleep. "What a couple of lightweights! You couldn't even make it to closing time!"

John talks quietly as he slowly moves towards the cell door. "Can you whisper?"

Greg yells in his ear as he passes by. "NOT REALLY!"

Sherlock flails upwards, his eyes wide and his mouth open in shock. He looks round the cell in bewilderment. His expression only grows more confused when he realizes that he can't get up because I'm straddling him. "GOOD MORNING!" I shout happily as I throw my arms around his neck. Sherlock groans and covers his ears as he falls back.

John gives Greg a look of hurt before he leaves the cell. Greg beckons to Sherlock, his tone softer. "Come on."

Sherlock tries to get up, but can't with me sitting on him. He can't speak yet, so he pats my hip. "You want me to get off?" He nods. "All right!"

I get off him and stand by him as Greg chuckles. Sherlock sits up on the bench, stands, and promptly falls back onto the bench. I laugh as he then stands up gingerly, puts his fingers to his temples, and throws one foot for balance. After a moment he lowers his hands and delicately walks out of the cell.

I follow him and slap him on the shoulder, almost sending him to the ground. "Feel good?"

"Shut…up…Tammy." He grumbles.

"Why?" I ask before I break out singing. _Oh, what a beautiful morning!_ Sherlock winces. _Oh, what a beautiful day! I've got a beautiful feeling, everything's going my way. _Sherlock frowns at me. "Well it _is_ a beautiful morning."

"Is it? I haven't noticed." He stumbles sideways and I wrap my arm around his waist. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." I laugh. "Feel free to keep your hand on my shoulder until you've regain your equilibrium."

He frowns down at me. "Big word."

"Yes. I read the dictionary waiting for you to return."

"Sorry."

"You've got several things to be sorry for." I remind him. "Remember? You promised you wouldn't get drunk."

He winced. "My alcohol level got compromised. I think someone slipped me a Mickey. Are you mad at me?"

I shook my head. "I was, and then I saw you this morning." I giggle like Katherine Hepburn in 'Bringing up baby'. "Oh, you look so silly."

Sherlock stops, grabs my face in one hand, and kisses me, thumping my back against the wall. I smile and wrap my arms around his waist. He draws back and rests his hot forehead against mine. "Tammy, you know I love you, right?" I nod. "Will you do me a favor?" I nod. "Please….shut up. Your voice... is splitting my head."

I laugh and kiss him again. "I'll think on it. Maybe if I torture you, you'll never get drunk again!"

"Trust me, I'm not going to."

He moves to go away, but I grab his coat collar and pull him back. "Just a minute." He looks down at me as I tuck his shirt back inside his pants. "Can't have you going out looking like a mess."

Sherlock's eyes spark a little impishly. "You sure you're not looking for anything down there?"

I swat his chest as I begin to button his coat. "I am not! Believe me; I've no need to look for it anymore!"

He takes my hand and we make our way to the front desk of the police station to claim his items. Sherlock grunts as he tries to put his coat back on. I take pity on him and help. "Allow me."

Sherlock nods. "Thank you."

I smile as John tucks his wallet into his back pocket. "Well, thanks for a ...you know," we walk away from the desk. Sherlock keeps his arm around my waist, so his gait was a little more even. "an evening."

Sherlock groans. "It was awful."

"Yeah." John looks down as Sherlock groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I was gonna pretend, but it was, truly."

He lowers his hand. "That woman, Tessa."

John frowns in confusion. "What?"

"Dated a ghost, the most interesting case for months. What a wasted opportunity."

"Okay." John says quietly.

"If you weren't drunk, you could have solved it."

"Tammy," Sherlock says tiredly. "I love you, you love me, so please…shut up."

I shake my head. "How can I resist such a nice invitation?"


	20. 20: Family day

Chapter Twenty

Family Day

"Tammy," Sherlock moans from his sprawled position on the couch. "can't you do something with these…crawlers?"

I look up to find Sherlock looking up at his father with curious eyes. Since Sherlock is lying on his stomach, he can't avoid his son's penetrating gaze. Linda, well, she's crawled up onto his back and is pulling his hair in her little fists. I smile and push my laptop to the side. "They're your children."

"Linda's got hands like a centipede." He complains as she gives his hair an extra tug. "An angry centipede."

I laugh. "She's got the power of picking up emotions. She can tell I'm mad at you and that your head aches. I don't know if her pulling your hair is helping it any."

He shrugs. "I don't really know either way."

I laugh and run my finger down his nose. "You're such a baby."

"I am not."

"Oh, really?"

"And thank you for turning off that….comedian about drinking."

I smirk. "Don't like Bill Cosby do you?"

"No."

"He's hysterical."

"You played that whole drunken skit four times!"

"He's brilliant! He's deduced several kinds of drunks perfectly! He's like you kinda, except he doesn't get drunk!"

"Do _not _put Bill Cosby and me in the same category!"

"You have no sense of humor."

"I do too!" He says indignantly.

"Really?" I hand him my video camera, which I left on the coffee table, turn it on and hand it to him. "I filmed this."

"What is it?" he asks.

"Just listen."

Sherlock exhales impatiently as he watches the video. Then, his eyes slowly widen as he realizes what I've video taped. He looks up at me, his eyes wide with surprise. "What is this?"

"You and John last night."

He stared at me. "You didn't!"

"I did!"

He squints. "What did he write on my forehead?"

I chuckle. "Your name."

"Damn John!" He growls out. He deletes the video and flips off the camera. "Don't…ever…do that again!"

"Then don't give me invitations like that." I shrug. "Besides, that's not the only copy."

His eyes flash. "What?"

I laugh. "It's actually quite funny."

"There's something else you're hiding from me."

"I've given, John, Mary and Greg a copy of it. Not to mention I had several good places to hide copies while you were in prison."

"I swear," he grounds out. "if these children weren't pinning me down-

"You'd make me forget my name," I tilt my head to the side and bit my lip, knowing he can't resist it. "right?"

He sulks. "Not what I had in mind."

I kiss him on the cheek. "Maybe tonight, if your headache is better and I feel up to letting you touch me, I'll let you try and make me forget my name. Now, come on, you've got that ghost date to take care of."

He shakes his head. "Not yet, I'm still under the influence somewhat."

"All right. Why don't we all go for a walk? Get a coffee or something like that?"

Sherlock nods. "That actually sounds nice."

"Good. I'll get the kids ready and you freshen up."

Sherlock sits up and lets out a hiss. Linda is still holding onto his hair in a tight fist. "Tammy?"

"You can talk to her." I say as I pick up Sherlock jr. and head out of the room. "She won't bite."

"I'm not good with children."

"Naturally, you're the biggest child of the three. Now, get going!"

* * *

Sherlock inhales deeply as Linda screams right in his ear. We're both standing up standing beside the children. Linda does not like it, while Sherlock is squealing happily while he jerks on the horses 'reins' waving happily at anyone who'll look at him.

"How much longer?" Sherlock asks.

I laugh and move closer to him, bumping him playfully with my hip. "Not much longer."

"You said that thirty seconds ago." I lean my hand on his shoulder and ruffle his hair. "Does she _ever _shut up?"

"No. Talk to her, get her to calm down."

"Really Tammy, you're better at this than I am."

"And you cannot go on ignoring your children. I know you feel that your parents ignored you," He glowered at me. "that should inspire you to be a better father. You said that you want to make up for the time you didn't have them in your life. Now, try it Sherlock."

He exhales, turns towards Linda, and then turns back to me. "What do I do?"

I shake my head. "You're sweet, calm her down, talk soothingly to her. Hop up behind her, hold her, try any of those things."

Sherlock awkwardly places his hand around Linda, and murmurs things into her ear. Just as I predicted, Linda stopped screaming and latched onto her father's shoulder, before planting a wet, kiss on his cheek. I half expect Sherlock to wipe her slobber away, but he doesn't, he touches her 'kiss' awkwardly examining it. I smile and watch as Sherlock studies her closely. She reaches out with both hands and grabs onto his cheeks. But she soon decides to pat his cheekbones instead because Sherlock doesn't really have much of a cheek for her to grab onto.

I smile as the carousel comes to a stop, Linda begins to pout. Sherlock undoes her safety belt and lifts her into his arms. I set Sherlock on the ground, he latches onto my hand and I lead him off the carousel. Sherlock carries Linda, his little princess, off before setting her down. She grabs ahold of his trousers and wanders alongside him. Sherlock glances at me, but he doesn't say anything.

I move to stand alongside him. He keeps his hand ontop of her head as they walk together. We walk for a moment in silence for the longest time, until we come to a fountain. "Sit." I say as I pat the edge of the fountain. "Come on."

Sherlock plops down beside me with Linda. I reach for his hand and smile at him. He looks down at my hand for a long moment, then, he runs his hands over mine. He smiles at me. A splash causes both of us to turn around, to see Linda in the fountain, up to her stomach, wading towards the center of the fountain. Sherlock reaches out and grabs her, falling on his side and into the water.

It takes all of my control to keep from laughing as Sherlock comes up; his face and hair are wet, as is the side of his body. Sherlock glowers at me. "Go ahead, just laugh, I can see you're trying not to laugh anyway."

I lean forward and brush his wet hair back. "Why don't we go home?"

He frowns. "You're not going to laugh at me?"

"Not out loud."

He groans. "What a day!"

"Night." I correct him. "So, why don't you tell me about this case? Anything to go on?"

"Not much."

"Head feeling better?"

"Fine."

"So, what do you think John is going to call this case?"

He groans. "I don't know."

I lean into his wet side. "How are you doing on the best man's speech?" Sherlock's face freezes into an emotionless stare. "John's a little worried, but I told him not to. You wouldn't do anything to embarrass him on his wedding day."

Sherlock exhales. "I can't believe it's over." I listen patiently to him. "It's going to be…uhmm, awkward now."

"How so?"

He shrugged. "He's got Mary now. He won't have time for this."

"I'm your wife." I point out softly. "I've got two children and I still make time for you. You're John's best friend, you're partners, and nothing's really going to change between you two. Thing's be slightly rearranged, that's all. Do you think John possibly felt this way when you married me?"

Sherlock frowned. "How could he? He wasn't loosing anything of importance."

"He was 'loosing' a friend."

"I didn't move out, he did."

"I moved down and in with you. His life was changed in that case."

"He didn't have a life until he met me and neither did you."

I roll my eyes. "You're right. I actually had a life, but I didn't have a happy life until you fulfilled every single one of my deepest wishes inside of me."

"Name one?"

"That I'd be loved for who I am." He paused and studied me. "For years growing up, I was worried about someone marrying me for my money, my looks, and my body."

"I might have married you for one out of three."

I flush. "Maybe, but…it was more than that. You heard John at the wedding, how he described me."

He nods. "Yes, I was wondering who he was talking about. Quiet, modest, and sweet." He adds. "You are, to a degree."

"And he called you highly intelligent, loud-spoken, unorganized and rude. But, you only drop the mask in my presence. You….stripped mine away the moment we met."

He ran his hand down my cheekbone. "And I enjoy stripping it away."

"You see beyond the mask, deep within me. I am…a very passionate person Sherlock, but shy and hesitant as well. You're kind, sweet, and gentle. Only you can bring those responses out in me, and only I can bring those responses out in you."

Sherlock stepped closer. "And that's why…I never loved Irene Adler." His voice dropped to a low murmur. "I've been waiting for you to figure it out."

Sherlock kissed me, then and there in public, with people milling by us in the streets. We each only had one hand free, for our other hand held onto our children. For a moment, it almost seems like the perfect moment to tell Sherlock that we're going to have another baby on the way. But the sound of a few whistles and catcalls kinda ruined it for me. We pulled apart and I studied the ground as I latched onto his arm.

"Time to get back to the flat." Sherlock said in a business tone. "I've got a case to solve. What is today?"

"Saturday the something or other. Why?"

"Good. Let's make it a tradition to take the kids down to the park every Saturday, provided I'm not at work?" I smile at him. "Let's make it a sort of…family day. How do you like that?"

"I like it very much Mr. Holmes."


	21. 21: Random

Chapter Twenty-one

Random

Sherlock turns towards me. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." Sherlock has me taking notes, which we can compare to find a similarity to Tessa's mystery man. He had John bring over his laptops; he had grabbed mine, two of his and Mrs. Hudson's. It was quite an amusing sight to see him communicating with so many people at once.

"Ok, now we've got Gail, Charlotte, Robyn and Vicky."

I nod. "Ready for the first question. Ask the questions in the _exact _order you told me their names."

He nods. "How did you meet?" I shake my head and marvel at how he is able to multi chat with four people on so many laptops. "Pub. Same gym. Chatting on the bus. Online."

"Random." I mutter.

"Name?"

"They just told you." I softly point out.

"His name." I nod. "Oscar. Mike. Terry." Sherlock frowns before saying. "Um, "love monkey." He turns and shoots me an incredulous look. I snort and shake my head. "Honestly." He turns back to the laptops. "Your place? They all meet at his place."

I nod. "Their mother's didn't teach them about serial killers then I guess."

"I don't think you're a great position to point out facts like that." Sherlock says smoothly. "After all, you had dinner with John and me after meeting for five seconds."

I smirk. "It was a public, safe and controlled area and I had a free dinner."

"After which you were chasing after us over rooftops after a serial killer." His eyes dance with amusement. "Remember?"

"How can I forget? I flashed you, remember? Now, shut up and ask them what happened."

He turns back to his laptop, after several fast clicks he responds. "Nothing happened. It was just ... very romantic." He frowns. "Four women in four nights. He must have something special."

"Ask them what."

"He was very charming. He listened. He was sweet. He had a lovely…

"You okay?" John asks. He points to the table is a plate containing Sherlock's lunch that Mrs. Hudson insisted on making. A slice of gammon steak with a pineapple slice on top of it, a fried egg and some chips. Frankly, I thought the combination was disgusting but then, I was pregnant, and so who was going to trust my judgement? "You let your food go cold. Mrs. Hudson'll play hell."

"Not now, John."

"We're busy." I explain as Sherlock resumes his typing. "What did Vicky say? He had a lovely…what?"

"He had a lovely manner." He frowns. "Different names, different addresses. Describe him. Short blond hair. Dark hair, long." I frown as I write down the different descriptions. "Ginger. Couldn't tell."

I give Sherlock a curious look. "How could she not tell?"

"He had a mask on."

I groan. "She doesn't find that odd?"

"Probably not." Sherlock stands up, grabs a newspaper and quickly flicks through the pages. "He's stealing the identity of corpses…getting the names from the Obituary columns. All single men, he's using the dead man's flat under the assumption it'll be empty for a while. Free love nest."

"Oh, that is disgusting!" I say as Sherlock relays that information to the women. "Just…uggghh."

Sherlock laughed. "Is that the most you can say?"

"At the moment. What do the others say?"

"One feels sick. Gruesome. Awful. And…..clever!"

I look at him in surprise. "Clever?"

Another laptop lets out a beep and Sherlock addresses it. "Ahh, hello, Tessa. And she calls him a bastard." I frown as I add Tessa and her words to the notes. "Meanwhile, back to business. No one wants to use a dead man's home. Least not until it's been cleared. So, he disguises himself, steals the man's home, steals his identity."

But only for one night." John points out and Sherlock turns to look at him. "Then he's gone."

Sherlock nods approvingly. "He's not a ghost, John. He's a mayfly. He lives for a day. So, what was it he was looking for?" he asks each of the girls. "Job? Gardener. Cook. Private Nurse. Security work. Maid." Sherlock looks down for a brief moment, and then raises his head. "Obvious. You all work for the same person!" but he's soon disappointed when the evidence proves him wrong. "No, not the same employer. Damn." He closes his eyes tightly. "Come on. We can do this." He then types out. "Ideal night out?" he turns to me. "Ready for this?"

I nod. "Yes, stop taking it easy on me."

"Fine, clay pigeon shooting. Line dancing. Pictures? Wine in front of the telly. Dungeon." Sherlock shakes his head in disbelief. "This Vicky is a weird character."

"I wouldn't say such things if I were you." I tease him quietly.

"Make-up. Clarins. No. 7. Maybelline. Nothing special. Whatever's cheap."

"Figures." I mutter.

Perfume. Chanel. Chanel. Chanel." Sherlock's face begins to light up. "Chanel." Then the light dims as he slaps the coffee table. "Estée Lauder." He shakes his head disappointedly. "Ideal man?" Sherlock groans. "Oh no."

"What?"

"Tessa says….George Clooney."

"Yecck." I say, wrinkling up my nose.

"Home loving. He'd have to like cuddling. Caring. Oh God, Vicky has ten things. One: someone who isn't competitive with other men. Two: someone who isn't constantly trying to define himself by his masculinity. This is utter rubbish." He turns to me. "Do all women think that way?"

I shrugged. "Depends on the woman."

He studies me. "And you…did you get your ideal man?"

"Yes I did."

"No, I mean, was I everything you originally wanted?"

I frown. "You don't want to know that."

"I do. Vicky's still spewing off her ghastly list of qualities. Besides, I'm curious. Come on."

"Well," I bite my lip briefly. "I wanted him to be rich, so I wouldn't have to worry about him being after my fortune. I wanted…you know wanted him to be like a famous writer, poet, someone with whom I could hold an intellectual conversation. Maintain a somewhat popular social status and still love the silence and privacy of the world. He'd have a deep, understand of human emotions. Kind, considerate, honest, and honorable."

"And instead you got a rude, broke, consulting detective."

"With an international reputation." I remind him. "But we don't always get what we want, we get what we need. And you're exactly what I need. Now, is Vicky done with her ten requests?"

"Uhh, yes. And it's not important. There's a unifying factor. There has to be." He frowns. "None of you reported anything stolen. "Security guard, gardener, cook, maid, and private nurse. He's romancing his way up the pecking order, somebody's pecking order." He closes his eyes. "Come on, think!" his eyes fly open. "Unless," he types out on the keyboard. "Do you have a secret you've never told anyone?" all of the women respond unanimously and Sherlock laughs. "Gotcha! They all said no!"

"What do you mean?" John asks.

"Everyone has secrets, and they all replied too quickly." Several beeps from the laptops and Sherlock groans. "No! Wait! They're all hanging up. Vicky says sorry, sexy," my head shoots up. "some secrets have to stay secret. Tessa asks that we enjoy the wedding." He groans and slams the lid down on the laptop as he straightens up. "Why? Why would he date all of those women and not return their calls?"

John sighs. "You're missing the obvious, mate."

"Am I?"

"He's a man."

Sherlock begins slamming the lids down on each of the laptops. "But why would he change his identity?"

"Maybe he's married."

Sherlock slowly straightens, realizing something. "Oh." He turns to me and his eyes widen in surprise. "Oh!"

"What?" I ask.

"Forgot something. I'll be back later!" He jumps up, grabs his scarf and takes off out of the flat.

I frown. "What could he forget?" I shrug. "Oh well, I'll find out."

"Right." John clears his throat. "Tammy, Mary wants to invite Charles Baker." I turn towards him. "And…do you think Sherlock would mind?"

I bite my lip. "He might…a little bit." I begin picking up my papers. "It's her wedding and her best friend. If it won't be uncomfortable for him, she should invite him." I straighten up and my eyes land on the calendar. My heart jumps and it pauses in my chest. "John…are you aware of what the date is today?"

"Uhh," he glances at his watch and lets out a shocked shout. "oh God, Valentine's Day!" he begins panicking. "I didn't get Mary anything."

"Never mind that! It's our anniversary!" I shriek as I wring my hands. "Oh, that's why he's dashing out and about!" I look at the clock. "It's 4:00 now. Oh!" I look around the flat. "This place is a mess! How could _I _forget it? It's my favorite holiday!"

"So we all got caught with our trousers around our ankles." John grabbed his coat. "I've got to go!"

"Go! This is all his fault!" I shout. "He would have to get drunk and distract the heck out of me!" John takes off without a word. I lean down the banister and call. "Mrs. Hudson!"

She peers up at me. "Yes Tammy? Is something wrong?"

"Yes! Its valentine's Day! Sherlock and my anniversary and the place is a mess!"

"Oh," she hurried up the stairs. "I see. Come on dear; let's attack your flat, it's always cleaner. Then, you'll send Sherlock on a few errands."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, we'll think of something!"

"I don't like lying to him! He can see through a lie much easier than one can see through a barbed wire fence. Maybe Greg can lock him up for something! Or Molly can drug him or something!"

"What about John?"

"He's in hot water as it is!" I groan. "Oh, what am I going to do?"

"Let's get to work."


	22. 22: Second chances

Chapter Twenty-two

Second Chances

I smoothed my black dress and surveyed the flat. It looked beautiful. And we'd managed to whip it up in such a short time. Angelo had been a darling and had sent our wedding dinner over, just for the two of us. Mrs. Hudson was positively thrilled to have the twins under her care. She'd never had the opportunity to have children, so I didn't mind sharing mine with her. It was an utter joy just to see her happy.

I come out and Mrs. Hudson smiles happily. "Look at your mother." She says to the twins. "Doesn't she look lovely?"

"Pretty." Sherlock says, pointing at me.

I laugh and kneel, hugging them both tightly. "You're both wonderful. Be good and mind Mrs. Hudson. I love you."

"Love you." Sherlock says.

"Love you." Linda comments around the finger she has in her mouth.

I turn to Mrs. Hudson. "Are you sure, you actually want to do this? I feel guilty."

She shakes her head. "No, don't think of it. You and Sherlock rarely get enough time together as it is and an anniversary is a precious thing. Go on, have a good time tonight."

"Thank you!"

The moment she shuts the door, I begin to panic. I pull out my phone and text Sherlock. _Where are you?_

His response is instant. _A block away._

_I'm up in my flat._

_Be there soon._

I smile and set my phone aside on the mantle piece. I hurry into my room again and triple check my makeup again. I was wearing that black cocktail dress again, and I'd clipped a huge red flower in my hair, effectively pinning it to one side. Sherlock enters and slams the door behind him. "Tammy?" he calls out.

"In…the bedroom."

"Right. You will not believe this! I go back to where Tessa first saw our Mayfly man, and the landlord wouldn't let me! I had to get Greg, but he couldn't be disturbed because he was busy consulting with sally on a case." I hesitate and draw myself up. Why was he babbling on like this? I turn around and notice that he's turned the lights on. "You know you're not supposed to leave candles on unattended, especially with children around?" I hear him blow the candles and I finally figure out that Sherlock doesn't understand the whole romantic atmosphere. I walk towards the door to hear him babbling still. "Anyway, so we finally get down there and the landlord has had _everything _taken out! Everything!" I step back into the room to see Sherlock has tossed his coat on his chair and he is now exploring the refrigerator. He pulls out some cucumber slices and begins chewing on them. "Now, I have absolutely no evidence at all. None!"

I shake my head as I watch him, hurt welling up inside me. I'd honestly thought that he'd remembered. For once, he'd remembered something important without me having to remind him. I shake my head. "I'm so sorry to hear that."

The hurt creeps out into my voice and Sherlock turns to face me. His eyes take in my hair, dress, makeup and finally the state of the room. His eyes narrow as he looks around, his brain attempting to figure out what's going on. "Did I…miss something?"

"No. No." I shake my head. "I don't know what I was thinking." I turn and walk briskly towards the bedroom. "I don't know."

"Tammy?" Sherlock's voice is confused. "Wait a minute!" I slam the door shut and lock it. "Tammy?" his voice shows some concern. "Come out here for a minute."

"No!" I reach for the back of my dress and struggle to get out of it. "I don't want to talk to you or see you!"

"Tammy, would you please just…

"Happy Valentines Day!" I shout. "Happy first anniversary! Or is it even our first? I don't know! Now that I think on it, we've never actually had an anniversary!"

Sherlock is silent for a long moment. "Tammy, I am so sorry."

"You're _always _sorry." I reply. "And this time…I want you to leave me alone!"

"Tammy-

"Shut up! Go down to Mrs. Hudson, bring the children's cribs back up and then you can tell her why we aren't on speaking terms!" All is quiet for a long time then I let out a loud grunt and cry as I finally bring the zipper down on the back of my dress. In doing so, I wrenched my shoulder and I now stood, dress pooling at my feet, rubbing my shoulder. Sherlock tries the doorknob and I groan. "I locked the door, now go away!"

The door clicks open and I spin around to see Sherlock standing there. I glower at him and stomp into my bathroom. "Now Tammy." I slam the door on whatever it is he has to say. I instantly realize that he can unlock this door, he can unlock _any _door, so I'm stuck with him. I grab my white silk robe from the back of the bathroom door and put it on.

He opens the door and I push past him, tying the sash around my waist. "Excuse me."

He, of course, grabs my arm and spins me around to face him. I glower at him as he studies me. He reaches out to touch my cheek. "Tammy." I push his hand away and he exhales. "I really am sorry."

"You say that all the time."

"Tammy," his tone is cautious. "I hate to point this out but…you forgot it was our anniversary too." My eyes flash. "I can tell by the state of the flat."

"Yes, but I didn't _forget _forget! You did!"

He frowns. "Forget, forget? What is that?"

"I forgot, but once I saw the calendar, I hastened to fix things up. You! You give every impression of a man who remembers that it's his anniversary before bolting out the door! And Mrs. Hudson and I spent the last four hours redecorating the flat so it would look nice."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not finished yet!" I snap at him. He blinks in surprise. "I had to go out shopping to get the perfect candles, mood music and a few flowers as well! I then take care of the children, feed them and let Mrs. Hudson wash the dishes while I take a bath, select the dress, the perfect makeup, and the perfect accessories before coming out. I light the candles, put the food out, go in and check my appearance one more time before you walk in. And what do you do?" I shake my head. "The lights were out, the fireplace was going, there's a romantic piano playing, there's candles lit. What did you think was going on? I just randomly ask you to meet me up there for no reason?"

"I didn't take notice Tammy."

"You blew the candles out."

"I was focused on…myself." I groan in aggravation. He knows exactly how easily I break when he accepts the wrong for once. "Tammy, I didn't completely forget, well, I held onto a vague memory."

"You 'deleted' wedding anniversary. Of course it's only a vague memory."

"One that wouldn't let me forget completely." Sherlock reached into his pocket and drew out a small box. "There was a street festival and this caught my eye. I admit, I didn't know why, but I got it for you."

I step towards him and take the package. He stands there, his fingers drumming impatiently on his thighs. I open the package slowly and stand there in silence as I look at the necklace he'd bought me. It wasn't exotic, it was simple, a heart-shaped locket on a silver chain. The heart has a red rose on it. I keep my gaze on the locket, pondering my response. Part of me wants to be mad, but most of the other part of me has forgiven him and is ready to burst into tears. I don't have a moment to decide. Sherlock pulls me into his arms and kisses me. I groan in aggravation and pleasure at his kiss. I shake my head and wrap my arms around his neck. After a moment, I break the kiss and rest my cheek alongside his shoulder.

"Am I forgiven?"

"Why bother asking, you know I make it an extreme habit of forgiving you the moment you walk in the door. Can you forgive me?" I ask. "I should have known that you'd have forgotten and I shouldn't have gone all off you."

"Of course Tammy."

"Thank you Sherlock." I pull away and pick up my dress. "Now, go on, you go light the candles while I get dressed. We'll try this again."

"You're always giving me second chances." He exhales. "Tammy, could I join you back here in five minutes?"

I frown. "Why?"

"Just trust me. Ok?"

I nod. "All right." Sherlock turns and bolts out of the room. I shake my head in dismay. "What are you up to now?" I get dressed, touch up my lipstick, light the candles and reheat our dinner trays. It's a little bit over Sherlock's five minutes, but I don't mind. I turn the music on just as someone knocks on the door. "Come in." I say. No one responds. In fact, they knock on the door again. I frown and walk cautiously to the door. "Who's there?"

Sherlock groans on the other end. "It's me. I should have known you'd be cautious. Open up." I frown and open the door to see Sherlock standing there with a bouquet of red roses for me. I smile as he hands them lovingly to me. "I figured that it was about time that I bought you some roses. Everyone's bought you roses except for me, so, on our…anniversary seemed like the right time."

I smile as I shift the roses to my left side. "I love you."

"I know." Sherlock leans forward and murmurs as he closes the distance between us. "And I love you too."

I smile as he pulls me close. For a moment, I almost tell him that he's about to become a father again, but this just….isn't the right moment. To everything there is a season. And when the moment is right…I'll know.


	23. 23: The big day

Chapter Twenty-three

The big day

I step out of bathroom with only my robe on. I can hear Sherlock playing his violin from the other room. He'd composed a beautiful gentle, waltz for John and Mary to dance to. I walk into the living room to find him dancing with an imaginary partner.

I shake my head and walk up to him, placing my hand on his shoulder. He turns, still holding his dancing frame and I slide into the position. "It takes two to dance."

"I 'm not dancing." He says as he continues moving me around the floor. "I'm road testing."

"Ok."

I smile and turn my head to the side and arch my back backwards slightly. Our knees are together and my right side is touching his right side. My instructor would have been proud that I still kept my grace and poise on the dance floor. "Do you really have to do that?" Sherlock asks. "You're not really looking at me."

"It's art Sherlock. You can see my eyes."

"Yes, but you're not looking _at_ me." Suddenly Sherlock says. "Shut up Mrs. Hudson."

I look over my shoulder to see Mrs. Hudson holding our tea tray. I swat his shoulder. "Sherlock."

"I haven't said a word."

Sherlock sighs as he continues to waltz. "You're formulating a question. It's physically painful watching you thinking."

"I apologize Mrs. Hudson." He stops dancing and I step away from him. "He's so thoughtless at times."

Mrs. Hudson shrugs it off. "I thought it was you playing."

"It was me playing." He picks up a remote control, switches off the music player. He makes a few changes to his sheet music. "I am composing."

Mrs. Hudson puts the tray down. "You were dancing."

"I was road-testing."

"You what?"

"When one dances it's like how one drives a car." I explain, using one of my teacher's adaptations. "You have to know how the car handles if you're going to make it respond properly."

Sherlock throws down his pen and turns to Mrs. Hudson. "Why are you here?"

"I'm bringing you your morning tea." She explains as she pours some milk into the teacup. "You're not usually awake." She hands me my cup of cocoa. "Here you go."

"Thank you."

Sherlock sits down in his chair. "You bring me tea in the morning?"

Mrs. Hudson shakes her head as she pours his tea. "Well, where'd you think it came from?!"

"I don't know." Sherlock said off handedly. "I just thought it sort of happened, or Tammy made it."

"Your mother has a lot to answer for." She hands him his cup of tea.

"I know. I have a list. Mycroft has a file."

Mrs. Hudson sits down in John's chair. "So, it's the big day, then!"

Sherlock takes sip of tea. "What big day?"

"Two people who currently live together are about to attend church, have a party, go on a short holiday and then carry on living together." I roll my eyes at Sherlock's attempt to just shrug everything off. "What's big about that?"

"It changes people," she explains. "marriage."

"Mmm, no it doesn't. Tammy and I are exactly the same people we were before we married; we've just polished off each other's rough edges. Your husband was executed for double murder. You're hardly an advert for companionship."

I glower at him as Mrs. Hudson continues talking. "Marriage changes you as a person, in ways that you can't imagine."

"As does lethal injection." He shoots her a pointed look.

"Shut up Sherlock." I warn him.

"My best friend, Margaret," I lean forward and listen to Mrs. Hudson. "she was my chief bridesmaid." Sherlock rolls his eyes as he sets his tea down. "We were going to be best friends forever, we always said that; but I hardly saw her after that."

"Aren't there usually biscuits?" he asks as he stands up.

"I've run out."

"Have the shops?" He pointedly walks towards the door, suggesting that she leave. I scowl and shake my head at him.

"She cried the whole day, saying, "Ooh, it's the end of an era."

Sherlock gestures towards the stairs. "I'm sure the shop on the corner is open."

"She was probably right, really. I remember she left early. I mean, who leaves a wedding early?" She shakes her head. "So sad."

"Anyway, you've got things to do."

"No, not really. I've got plenty of time to-

"Biscuits!" Sherlock says sternly.

She gets out of her chair and moves towards the door. "I really am going to have a word with your mother."

"You can if you like. She understands very little."

"Well, I understand very much, so I'll handle him." Sherlock closes the door on her, and then turns around sighing. "That was rude."

He groans. "I don't need to listen to Mrs. Hudson's blathering this early in the morning." He looks towards John's chair for a few moments, then walks towards our bedroom and I follow him. "Right, then." He walks towards his wardrobe, where I've hung his suit out for him. He looks at it for a moment before responding. "Into battle."

I nod. "I'll meet you downstairs." I reach up to pull the ladder down so I can go up and take care of the children. Suddenly, I don't feel well. I push past Sherlock into the bathroom and dry heave. I groan in aggravation. I turn around to find him standing in the doorway. "I'm fine. I knew I shouldn't have eaten beforehand."

He rubs my shoulder. "You're always getting nervous. Try to calm down and breathe. I don't see why you're so excited. You weren't this excited when we got married."

"At least, that's what _you _think! I was terrified!"

"Well, if you recall," he murmurs as he grabs ahold of my shoulders. "I gave you two opportunities to refuse me. You didn't have to marry me a second time."

I shrug. "Well, as you know I have a very difficult time saying 'no' to you. Besides, you didn't have to ask me."

He nods. "I know."

"Then why did you?"

"I'm not as stupid as you think. I knew I'd be an idiot to let such a fascinating creature walk out of my life."

My hormones immediately spiral out of control. He leans forward to kiss me, but I place my hand on his mouth. "Later Sherlock, we don't want to be late."

"Fine." He groans. "What color are you wearing today?"

I frown. "You don't want to know."

"I do. What color?"

"Purple."

He tilts his head. "Then you must look simply sensational. You don't really like purple, but the dress must have looked simply too spectacular for you too pass up. Am I wrong?"

"No you're not. Now, excuse me. I'll meet you downstairs in a half hour or so." I move to head up the ladder. "Oh, and can you find my white wrap I was wearing yesterday? I can't seem to remember where I left it."

"Mrs. Hudson put it in the hall closet." He wiggled his eyebrows. "You probably don't remember she does that when we leave our coats on the steps."

I flush. "Thank you for reminding me."

I climbed upstairs and went to get dressed into my knee-length purple cocktail dress. It had a sweetheart neckline. The skirt was really frilly. It was a bit young for someone my age, but I like it because it hid the small bump that was beginning to form on my abdomen. Mary had talked me into the dress and I was glad she had. It peeled off five years of my age. Sherlock's 'death' and our twins had really taken a toll on me. We lived an active life and none of it was going to show on Sherlock's face. He was going to die with that baby face of his while I had a head full of gray hair.

"She came down the stairs, and stood. And there was nothing to do but look, nothing needing to be said." I shake my head as I come down, holding onto the children's hands. "She took a scarf, her father's, I think, and we went out together." I pause as he takes my wrap and drapes it around me. "We went to a blackened-out pub and sat hand in hand, both stunned by this, overwhelming sense of recognition." He grabs ahold of my waist and pulls me flush against him, his hands cupping my waist. "We kissed, then and there in public, without shame or bravado," heat filled my cheeks as Sherlock had voice sex with me in front of the children. "because although people stood within a yard of us, we were alone." Sherlock leaned forward, his breath tickling my jawbone as he moved towards my mouth. "And we both recognized without a moment's doubt," Sherlock spoke gently, his voice raspy with emotion. "that we should _never_ let each other go."

I moan as he kisses me. My face flushes as I wrap my arms around his neck. "Kissing." Linda says loudly, shattering the moment.

We both laugh and pull away, with our forehead and noses touching. "Maybe not as alone as we'd like to be. But that was beautiful. Where'd you get that?"

"Free Fall, by William Golding. I thought it rather appropriate for the moment."

"It did fit the moment. Even if we weren't sitting in a blackened out pub." I turn and gather my wrap around my shoulders. "Now…Mr. Holmes it's time for us to go and I'm looking forward to your speech."

He groans. "You're enjoying this."

"Yes I am. And I know you're enjoying it too, so don't bother to deny it?"

"How about I don't say anything and let you draw your own conclusions?"

"Fine. Now, let's get on with the show!"


	24. 24: And it feels like jealousy

Chapter twenty-four

And it feels like jealousy

The wedding was beautiful. It was everything I would have wanted had Sherlock and I met eight years ago. The venue was beautiful, something that one would expect out of a fairytale. Sherlock remained unemotional throughout the whole ceremony. Linda saw tears sliding down my eyes and then she started crying loudly. Sherlock glowered at me as I frantically tried to get my tears under control and calm Linda.

"Quiet Linda!" he barked, effectively silencing her, but definitely embarrassing the heck out of me. Everyone laughed at us as Linda sniffled loudly. I shot John and Mary an apologetic look, but they were smiling broadly.

Then, John and Mary Watson walked proudly down the aisle. Sherlock had to walk this bridesmaid Janine down the aisle, but he winked at me as he passed me by. I shake my head and returned his wink.

"Congratulations!" The photographer gushes. "Okay, hold it there; I wanna get this shot of the newlyweds." Sherlock steps to Mary's side. "Just the bride and groom, please."

Sherlock doesn't move, as of the moment he's watching me over his shoulder. John looks towards him. "Sherlock?"

Sherlock starts. "Oh, sorry." He walks out of shot, with a slight pout on his lips. I shake my head and blow him a kiss.

"Okay, three, two, one, cheese!" The bridesmaids throw handfuls of confetti into the air and the photographer starts taking pictures. The rest of the congregation pours out of the doors and the photo taking continues. I'm glad I can look down and act like I'm focusing on the children. I _hate _having my picture taken, because I hate the way I look. Later, the photographer begins taking pictures of Sherlock and a bridesmaid named Janine. For a second, I catch Molly standing with her fiancé Tom, but she is looking at Sherlock. If any believes that she's "moved on", they're a blind fool. I hope that Tom wakes up and realizes that her heart doesn't completely belong to him.

Janine's flirtatious voice catches my attention. "The famous Mr. Holmes! I'm very pleased to meet you. But no sex, okay?"

Sherlock is definitely startled, as am I. "Um, sorry?"

She begins laughing at him. "You don't have to look so scared. I'm only messing. Bridesmaid, best man. It's a bit traditional."

She gently punches his arm. He looks down at her touch with distaste. "Is it?"

She shrugs a little awkwardly. "But not obligatory."

I expect Sherlock to pull away from her and walk over to me, but he doesn't. "If that's the sort of thing you're looking for," he jerks his head towards one of the wedding guests. "the man over there in blue is your best bet. Recently divorced doctor with a ginger cat, a barn conversion, and a history of erectile dysfunction." Sherlock blinks. "Reviewing that information, possibly not your best bet."

Janine shrugs. "Yeah, maybe not."

For a moment Sherlock looks puzzled. "Sorry, there was one more deduction there than I was expecting."

"Mr. Holmes," Janine boldly takes his arm. "you're going to be incredibly useful.

Again Sherlock looks down at her hand and he frowns. He looks up and spots me trying not to be too obvious that I don't like her hanging all over him. Honestly, why do some women do that? If God had intended for a woman to do that, he wouldn't have inspired people to make coats! Not to mention, he was married. But then again, Sherlock didn't want a wedding ring, so I'd never gotten him one.

Sherlock moves forward. "Excuse me." He then turns and walks over to me. "You really shouldn't have that look on your face. It's very unattractive."

I glare at him. "What face?"

He smirks. "You're jealous."

"Maybe." I frown.

"Don't be." He shrugs and places his hand on the small of my back. "She's a child; you're a woman, and my wife. You set the blood pounding in my ears at your touch, not her." I flush as he presses a kiss to my earlobe. "You do look like a four-layer chocolate cake, while she looks like a melted chocolate kiss."

"Don't overdo it." I laugh. "I get it."

"You really know how to kill a mood, don't you?"

I flush as he nips my neck. "Sherlock…public, remember?"

"Whatever."

I step away and straighten his coat lapels. "Go. I'm sure John and Mary are looking for you."

He nods. "Yeah, got to greet the boring guests."

Linda cackles. "Poor daddy."

Sherlock picks her up. "Why don't you come with me? Would you like that?"

She nods. "Yes!"

I shake my head and watch Sherlock walk away with Linda. Both are having a small conversation with each other. Linda loves her father's hair; she's _always _pulling on his hair. Sherlock used to mind, but not as much anymore. In fact yesterday, Sherlock was in his mind palace and he came out of it to realize that Linda had clipped her sparkly pink and blue hair clips in his hair. He threw a fit, but her tears calmed him down. I didn't dare tell him that I'd snapped a picture of that moment.

Sherlock, he was a copycat. He copied all of his father's mannerisms. One time Linda threw one of his books towards him, but it'd fallen short. So he'd climbed up and over the coffee table instead of going around it. Sherlock was inquisitive. He loved it when both of us read to him, he was stubbornly trying to learn how to read and he was frustrated with himself when he couldn't retain the letters.

"Tammy?" I turn around to see Charles approaching me. "Hello."

"Hello." I reach out and hug him around the shoulder. "It's great to see you."

He pats my back. "You look wonderful." He frowns. "Are you pregnant?"

My jaw drops. "How'd you know?"

He laughs. "My line of work, remember?"

"I am." I shake my head. "Sherlock doesn't know yet."

Charles laughed. "You're kidding! He's supposed to have Superman's vision! How can he _not_ see?"

"Evidentially, I don't show it very well."

He looks at me and nods. "Yes, I can't really see it. How far are you along?"

"Almost three months."

"May I?" he asks. I nod as he reaches out and touches my stomach. He nods as he finds the lump. "Yes. Here it is." Sherlock reaches up and grabs Charles's hand with a frown. "Hello Sherlock."

"Say hello to Uncle Charles."

Sherlock nods. "Hello."

Charles laughs. "Still not a cheerful fellow is he?"

I shake my head. "No. He's got a mind like his father. But evidentially, Sherlock says that he's not going to be as intelligent as Linda." I exhale. "Shall we go in?"

He nods. "Yes."

We approach the venue and we see Mary, John, Sherlock and Linda greeting the guests. Linda's getting the biggest reaction. She's a social butterfly. She waves at everyone. "Bye! Bye! Have fun!"

Mary laughs as Linda continues waving at the people passing by them. "She's quite the talker."

"Isn't she?" Sherlock says stiffly.

Mary looks up as David, the man Sherlock threatened, approaches us. I groan. "What?" Charles asks. "Are you ok?"

"Watch this. A prime example of Sherlock's threats in motion.

"David! Mary reaches out ready to hug him.

David leans away, laughing nervously. "Mary, congratulations. You look, very nice." He quickly moves away from her. Mary looks puzzled as he shakes John's hand. "John, congratulations. You're a lucky man."

John attempts to look unconcerned. "Thank you."

Mary smiles uneasily. "Um, David, this is Sherlock."

Sherlock smiles at him, tight-lipped. Charles blinks. "Awkward."

"Talk about a man being roasted alive." I whisper back.

David stammers. "Um, yeah. We've, um, we've met."

He makes several uneasy noises, waves briefly to Mary and practically indoors. John looks at Sherlock with a curious expression but Sherlock raises his head and looks unreadable.

Charles and I approach. I hug Mary. "Congratulations. You're a lucky woman."

"Thank you."

I whisper. "I would say that you've married the finest man in the world but Sherlock would kill me."

Mary whispers. "Have you told him yet?"

I shake my head. "No. There hasn't been a right moment and no, he hasn't figured it out yet."

The next guest approaches so I move to hug John. "Congratulations John. May the two of you have a happy life."

"Thank you Tammy."

"Mommy!" Linda says loudly.

I lean forward and hug her. "Hello. Are you having fun?"

"Yes."

I turn to go, but Sherlock grabs my arm. "Forget something?"

I laugh. "Yes. Sorry." I lean forward and give him a quick peck on the mouth. Or at least I would have except Sherlock didn't let me move away until he was satisfied. I smile as he finally lets me go. "Show off."

I turn to head in when Archie, runs straight up to Sherlock and wraps his arms around him, smiling happily. Sherlock looks awkwardly down at him. Linda looks down at Archie in surprise. "Who's that?"

Sherlock shifts uncomfortably. "Yes, um, well done in the service, Archie."

Archie's mother smiles at them. "He's really come out of his shell. I don't know how you did it. He said you had some pictures for him, as a treat."

"Yes," Sherlock pats Archie's head. "if he's good."

"Beheadings." Archie blurts out happily.

"Lovely little village." Sherlock replies quickly. He unwraps Archie and gently pushes him towards the entrance.

The mother looks down at Archie as they go inside. "What did you say?"

I turn to Sherlock and shake my head in disbelief. "You didn't." I hiss as they move out of earshot. "You didn't promise him that?"

He shrugged. "A bargain is a bargain."

"You are not going to give pictures like that to a little boy." I hold out my hand. "Now, hand them over."

He didn't blink. "I forgot to bring them."

"No, you did. I know you."

"Tammy I promised."

"Not your child." I remind him. "Remember? Now hand them over? You promised to bring them, you asked me to hold onto them and I accidentally lost them. End of story."

"Well, believe it or not Tammy, I did forget the pictures. Come on, I forgot our anniversary. Why would I remember pictures of beheadings?"

I shrug. "Possible. But I'm not going to stand out here and argue with you anymore. I'll be watching you, if you've got them; I'm going to confiscate them."


	25. 25: Not the first

Chapter twenty-five

Not the first

"He's nice."

Janine, again, has cornered Sherlock and they're both standing together a short distance away from me. Sherlock for once, is being polite. I can tell that he's for once, at a loss at how to get rid of her. After all, it is John's wedding and he promised that he'd be on his best behavior. I watch the children as they explore the room. Janine looks admiringly at the waiter as he walks past.

Sherlock sniffs deeply before addressing her. "Traces of two leading brands of deodorant, both advertised for their strength, suggestive of a chronic body odor problem manifesting under stress."

"Okay, done there." Janine asks. "What about his friend?"

Sherlock turns to look where she's looking, a waiter, carefully pulling out a skewer from the middle of a large piece of roast beef. "Long-term relationship, compulsive cheat."

Janine stares at him in surprise. "Seriously?"

"Waterproof cover on his smartphone. Yet his complexion doesn't indicate outdoor work. Suggests he's in the habit of taking his phone into the shower with him, which means he often receives texts and emails he'd rather went unseen."

"Can I keep you?" Janine asks flirtatiously.

Sherlock locks eyes with me, takes hold of Janine's arm and guides her over to me. "Tammy, this is Janine, the bridesmaid."

I smile tightly. "How do you do?"

"Janine, this is my wife Tammy."

She looks me over, her face stiff and unsociable. "Sorry, I didn't know you were married." She looks me up and down with a critical eye. "Doesn't seem like your type."

Cold shock washes over me. "We actually got married twice." Sherlock stated coldly as he stepped beside me, placing his arm on my waist. "Couldn't get enough of each other the first time, so we got married again. In fact, we're contemplating getting married once a year, frankly because we just love saying our marriage vows to each other." I flush as he brushes back a stand of hair from my face. "Besides, she's also borne two of my children, so that in itself states that she is very, very much my type, wouldn't you say?"

Janine dips her head at me before turning and walking away. I reach up and kiss the corner of his mouth. "That was….very sweet of you." I kissed him again. "Thank you."

He shrugs. "Well you stand up for me often enough, I figured it was time I repaid you."

"Sherlock." I murmur as he leans forward and presses a kiss on my neck. "We're in public."

"Not good?" I shake my head. "Fine."

"You really should go back to John."

He moans. "It's so boring."

"Everything bores you." I smirk as I take my seat. "I'll let you have some fun tonight. I promise."

His eyes narrow as he leans over me. "I can do anything?"

I hesitate. "Well after your truly magnificent defense of me, it would be rather mean of me not to let you have some fun."

"Fine." His eyes sparkle darkly. "I'll tie you up." I flush at the dirty, dangerously, suggestive tone in his voice. "It'll be fun watching you…squirm."

I flush. "Sherlock. You're making me blush."

"Not yet." He reaches under the table and presses his hand against my maidenhood. I bite my tongue and tightly grip the underside of my chair. "I shall enjoy hearing you cry out as you as I take and plunder every inch of you."

"God," I exhale shakily. "you sound like a pirate."

"Oh I am," he murmurs. "and you're the treasure chest I love looting." He stands up. "Gotta go now."

I nod. "Yes." I laugh quietly and shake my head. "Please do."

"Now you're blushing." He said as he walked away. "A very, very bright pink, it's like you've got a fever."

I reach for my napkin and dip the corner of it into the water. I gently dab the back of my neck, I shake my head as I attempt to bring down the color in my face. He _loved _making me flush and turn embarrassed in public. It was his mission in life to turn me as red as a tomato!

"Mind if I join you?" I look up to see Charles standing before me. "Mary arranged to have me sit with you and the children."

I shrug. "I don't mind. Please, sit down, if it's not going to be awkward for you."

He sits down beside me. "Will Sherlock mind?"

"Maybe a little, but I don't he's too worried."

"Fine." Charles frowns and reaches forward to touch my head. "Are you ok? You seem flushed."

I flush harder. "Yes, I'm fine. It was…Sherlock again. He was…propositioning me."

Charles laughs. "I see. So, how are you two?"

"I'm happy and he's happy…in a funny, irritating kind of way."

""Tell me," Charles asks. "can you get him to stop shooting daggers at me?"

I look around and see Sherlock glowering at us. I mouth 'I love you' before blowing him a kiss. He straightens and puffs up a little bit. I smile and bite my lip teasing him. His eyes flash and he glowers at me. I turn back to Charles. "I think that worked. So, how have you been?"

He shrugged. "Well, I had one song published, but I'm afraid it's due to your husband's name."

I blinked. "You mentioned him in a song?"

"Yes." He reaches into his coat and hands me the sheet music. "I know you don't sing anymore but I thought you'd like to see it."

"Thank you and I still sing. Sherlock and I, when we've got the time, we play pieces of music together." I smile as I survey the title. 'How was it for you?' It was a charming little song. I could just hear the music in my head. I smile as I read the line with Sherlock. "It was Sherlock Holmes without a single clue. That's how it was for me. Honey, how was it for you?" I laugh. "This is a wonderful song. Don't think you had to mention Sherlock's name to get it published. It's marvelous. Has anyone offered to record it yet?"

He shakes his head. "No. I don't suppose, you'd be interested?"

I exhale. "I don't know Charles. I'm not that good."

"I wrote it with you in mind." He stated gently. "Would you consider it?"

"I'll think on it." I look up to see Sherlock walking towards me. "But I'm not certain I'll have time for it. You know."

He nods. "Yes, I do. But it's only one record."

"Hello." Sherlock said brightly as he walked up to the table. He actually smiles at Charles. "I see that things have been going well for you. Your music is beginning to take off, congratulations."

Charles and I stared at him. "Thank you."

Sherlock gives him a tight smile before turning to me. "Care to take a turn about the room?"

I reach for his arm. "I'd love to. Please excuse us Charles." I accept his arm and I look up at him as Sherlock guides me towards the refreshment table. "That was sweet of you."

He shrugs. "He's not that bad. He and Molly should get together. She's going to break her engagement to Tom today; he should be there to pick up the pieces."

"And…never mind. I don't want to know how you know these things. You _always _know these things." I exhale. "So, is Mycroft coming?"

"Not sure."

"He hasn't answered yet? How rude!"

"Tammy, he had our marriage annulled and then tried to take you for himself. _That _is the epitome of rude!"

I nod. "Yes. He makes you look like a saint." Sherlock glowers at me as I take a plate and begin placing a few of the appetizers on it. "Do you want anything?"

Sherlock shakes his head as he pulls out his phone. "No."

"Calling Mycroft?"

He doesn't answer me, but the glare on his face assures me that I am right. _Yes, what, Sherlock?_

Sherlock's eyes narrow as he hears Mycroft's breathless voice. "Why are you out of breath?"

_Filing._

"Liar." I mutter as I take a bite out of my pineapple slice before adding extra fruit. I think I've overloaded my plate, but Sherlock and Linda will definitely want to nibble off my plate.

Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Either I've caught you in a compromising position or you've been working out again. I favor the latter."

_What do you want? _

"I need your answer, Mycroft, as a matter of urgency."

_Answer?_

"Even at the eleventh hour it's not too late, you know."

Mycroft sighs. _Oh, Lord._

"Cars can be ordered, private jets commandeered."

I mutter quietly. "Sister-in-laws can use their influence on their father-in-law."

Sherlock smirks at me. _Today. It's today, isn't it? No, Sherlock, I will not be coming to the "night do", as you so poetically put it._

Sherlock shakes his head before responding insincerely. "What a shame. Mary and John will be extremely d-

_Delighted not to have me hanging around._

"Oh, I don't know. There should always be a specter at the feast."

_So, this is it, then. The big day. I suppose I'll be seeing a lot more of you from now on._

Sherlock frowns. "What do you mean?"

_Just like old times._

Sherlock looks disgusted. "No, I don't understand."

_Well, it's the end of an era, isn't it? John and Mary, domestic bliss._

"No, no, no, I prefer to think of it as the beginning of a new chapter." There is a silence and Sherlock asks. "What?"

_Nothing!_

"I know that silence." Irritation creeps into Sherlock's tone. "What?"

_Well, I'd better let you get back to it. You have a big speech, or something, don't you?_

Sherlock is still demanding an answer to his question. "What?"

_Cake, karaoke ... mingling._

Sherlock snaps angrily. "Mycroft!"

_This is what people do, Sherlock – they get married. I warned you: don't get involved._

"Involved?" he rolls his eyes. "I'm not involved."

Mycroft is not convinced. _No?_

"John asked me to be his best man. How could I say no? He was my best man twice."

_Absolutely!_

"I'm not involved!" Sherlock repeated.

_Says the man with a wife and two kids and God only knows how many more children she's going to have to bear while you use her. _My head shoots up in anger and _Sherlock's_ fingers tighten angrily around his phone. He knows that I am sorely tempted to rip the phone out of his hand and give Mycroft a piece of my mind. _Now, she's going to be tired before her time and end up a widow twice in a matter of years. _ _I believe you! Really, I do! Have a lovely day, and do give the happy couple my best._

"I will." He bites off.

He lowers the phone, about to switch it off when Mycroft speaks again. _Oh, by the way, Sherlock, do you remember Redbeard?_

Sherlock's jaw tightens, at the mention of his beloved Irish setter that he'd had growing up as a child. He'd loved it and he was inconsolably crushed when the dog had to be put down. Mycroft had taken great delight in mocking Sherlock's tears. "I'm not a child any more, Mycroft."

_No, of course you're not. Enjoy not getting involved, Sherlock._

Sherlock hangs up on him and he looks down at the table for a moment. I bite my lip before speaking. "I'm sorry." He turns to me, his eyes curious. "That was…cruel of him to bring up Redbeard."

His eyes narrow. "What do you know of Redbeard?"

"Everything."

He draws back. "How?"

"When I was carrying Linda and Sherlock, I had very little time for anything else except watching family movies and looking through pictures. Your mother told me the story."

Sherlock studies me. "What else do you know?"

"A few things, things I'll never bring up. I'll keep them close to my heart. They're safe there."

He frowns. "Now you know everything."

I shake my head. "No, the pictures and video footage are nothing to the man I know. I only started to faintly recognize you at the last Christmas party at your parents. But it was still like watching another child grow up. You're a man of so many personalities and traits it would take me a lifetime to know and understand you completely."

"You knew enough about me to marry me."

I smile. "I knew of you but I don't think I truly know you. I don't think I ever will and I don't think anyone will."

"So, you're married to a stranger?"

I kiss his cheek. "A stranger that I know very well and love very much."

He makes a face at me. "That doesn't make much sense."

"I know. When John and I published that book, we realized that you were very difficult to write because you're easy to know. But actually _knowing _you is a totally different thing."

"That still doesn't make sense."

"Well, if you can't figure out what I mean, then it is _never _going to make sense."


	26. 26: The 'best' man speech

Chapter twenty-six

The 'best' man speech

The wedding meal contained three courses and lots of champagne, which I avoided. Charles emptied his glass and I promptly switched glasses with him when Sherlock wasn't looking. Then, the big moment came that everyone except Sherlock had been waiting for.

The Master of Ceremonies tapped a spoon against a champagne glass to get everyone's attention.

"Pray silence for the best man."

The guests applaud and cheer as Sherlock rises to his feet at the top table. He buttons his jacket, looking a little uncomfortable. I smile and give him a subtle thumb up.

He clears his throat and begins to speak. "Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, and, erm ...others." Sherlock stops and blinks and there's a long, awkward pause before Sherlock stammers a few nonsensical things. It's not often that I see Sherlock without words, nor has anybody else for that matter. Greg shoots me a curious look. He's seated directly across the room from us with Molly, Tom and Mrs. Hudson.

John whispers quietly. "Telegrams."

Sherlock jolts out of his delirium. "Right, um," he begins to search his pockets, before realizing that the telegrams are directly in front of him. John clears his throat as Sherlock swallows hard. "First things first. Telegrams." He picks them up. "Well, they're not actually telegrams. We just call them telegrams. I don't know why. Wedding tradition." I smile as he lifts the first card. "Because we don't have enough of that already, apparently." John immediately begins to question his sanity as Sherlock begins to read the telegrams a bit sarcastically. "To Mr. and Mrs. Watson. So sorry I'm unable to be with you on your special day. Good luck and best wishes, Mike Stamford."

John nods. "Ahh, Mike."

Sherlock begins to read the next card. "To John and Mary. All good wishes for your special day. With love and many big," he breaks off, then continues slowly, making a face. "big squishy cuddles, from Stella and Ted." Greg sniggers from his end of the table. "Mary, lots of love," he breathes out before disparagingly reading. "poppet." He loudly sounds the 't' at the end of the word. "Oodles of love and heaps of good wishes from CAM. Wish your family could have seen this." I can hear Sherlock is getting bored rather quickly. "He begins dropping the card onto the table. "Um, special day, very special day, love, love, love, love, love, bit of a theme, you get the gist. People are basically fond." There's some laughter from the guests as Sherlock addresses them. "John Watson." He gestures towards John. "My friend, John Watson. John."

John smiles at him before Sherlock turns to his audience again. "When John first broached the subject of being best man, I was confused. I confess at first I didn't realize he was asking me. When finally I understood, I expressed to him that I was both flattered and ... surprised. I explained to him that I'd never expected this request and I was a little daunted in the face of it." John and I both exchange curious looks as Sherlock relays this information. "I nonetheless promised that I would do my very best to accomplish a task which was, for me, as demanding and difficult as any I had ever contemplated. Additionally, I thanked him for the trust he'd placed in me, and indicated that I was, in some ways, very close to being ... moved by it." Sherlock paused for dramatic effect. "It later transpired that I had said none of this out loud."

John laughs, and some of the guests join in. Charles whispers. "So he does have a sense of humor after all."

I nod. "You've no idea."

Sherlock reaches into his jacket pocket, clearing his throat, and takes out a handful of cue cards, looking at each one and putting it onto the table as he talks to himself. "Done that, done that, done that bit, done that bit. Done that bit." He looks up at the guests again, then turns to John. "I'm afraid, John, I can't congratulate you." Mary looks surprised and John looks up at him. I admit I am a little nervous by Sherlock's sudden announcement, but I'm willing to give him a chance. "All emotions, and in particular love, stand opposed to the pure, cold reason I hold above all things. A wedding is, in my considered opinion, nothing short of a celebration of all that is false and specious and irrational and sentimental in this ailing and morally compromised world."

Now the guests begin to look uncomfortable. Some of them start murmuring quietly to each other. Greg and Molly look at Sherlock in horror. I start to shrink slightly in my seat in embarrassment. I don't know why he's saying this, considering he's married me…twice! John is definitely planning on how he's going to kill Sherlock as soon as he does get him alone.

"Today we honor the death, watch beetle that is the doom of our society and, in time, one feels certain, our entire species." Now all anyone can do is stare at him. Sherlock pauses for a moment. "But anyway," he looks down at his cards. "let's talk about John."

John whispers quietly. "Please."

Sherlock looks up again. "If I burden myself with a little help-mate during my adventures, it is not out of sentiment or caprice, it is that he has many fine qualities of his own that he has overlooked in his obsession with me." Greg laughs silently and I smile. "Indeed, any reputation I have for mental acuity and sharpness comes, in truth, from the extraordinary contrast John so selflessly provides." John sighs heavily. "It is a fact, I believe, that brides tend to favor exceptionally plain bridesmaids for their big day. There is a certain analogy there, I feel." Janine stares up at him and I have to fight the urge to glower at him. "and contrast is, after all, God's own plan to enhance the beauty of his creation, or it would be if God were not a ludicrous fantasy designed to provide a career opportunity for the family idiot." Mary covers her face with her palms and John is half-hiding behind his clasped hands. The vicar looks at Sherlock grimly, and more guests are muttering amongst themselves. Sherlock pauses for a moment and takes in my glower. "Tammy's going to smack me for that remark when we get home."

I groan and bury my face in my hands. "Is it possible for the floor to swallow you whole if you ask it nicely?" I ask Charles.

"No." He whispers back.

"The point I'm trying to make is that I am the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant and all-round obnoxious arsehole that anyone could possibly have the misfortune to meet." Now, everyone is silent at Sherlock's remark. He looks towards the vicar. "I am dismissive of the virtuous. He turns towards me. "Unaware of the beautiful. God knows how I persuaded my wife to marry me…twice." He turns towards Mary and John. "And uncomprehending in the face of the happy. So if I didn't understand I was being asked to be best man, it is because I never expected to be anybody's best friend. Everyone is listening intently now, all his rudeness momentarily forgiven. "Certainly not the best friend of the bravest and kindest and wisest human being I have ever had the good fortune of knowing." Mary smiles proudly at her husband.

"John, I am a ridiculous man," John smiles and nods in agreement. Tears fill my eyes as Sherlock humbly speaks his piece. "redeemed only by the warmth and constancy of your friendship. But, as I'm apparently your best friend, I cannot congratulate you on your choice of companion." He looks down for a moment, then smiles a little. "Actually, now I can. Mary, when I say you deserve this man, it is the highest compliment of which I am capable. John, you have endured war, and injury, and tragic loss," he adds quietly. "So sorry again about that last one." I shake my head. He of course, has to remind us of his tragic 'death'. "So know this, today you sit between the woman you have made your wife and the man you have saved. In short, the two people who love you most in all this world. And I know I speak for Mary as well when I say we will never let you down, and we have a lifetime ahead to prove that."

Mrs. Hudson and Molly are crying. Several other guests, even some of the men are sniffling. Charles and Greg keep a rein on their emotions, but barely. Tears are flowing down my cheeks. Sherlock pats my arm as Linda begins sniffling quietly beside me. She's worried that her father is going to promptly tell her to shut up again.

John turns to Mary and whispers to her. "If I try and hug him, stop me."

"Certainly not."

Sherlock has moved on to his next card, oblivious of everyone in tears. "Ah, yes. Now on to some funny stories about John," he finally looks up and sees so many of the guests crying. He blinks in surprise. "What's wrong? What happened? Why are you all doing that? John?" He turns to me. "Tammy?" I blow him off and resume crying into my unused napkin. "Look what you started!"

Mrs. Hudson tearfully sniffles. "Oh, Sherlock!"

Sherlock looks down at John. "Did I do it wrong?"

I laugh and begin crying again as John stands up. "No, you didn't. Come here." He pulls him into a tight hug as the guests break into applause."

Sherlock is confused. "I haven't finished yet."

"Yeah, I know, I know."

Sherlock holds up his next card and attempts to talk over the applause. "So, on to some funny stories-

"Can you," John asks. "can you wait 'til I sit down?"

Sherlock nods as the applause continues. John sits down, clearing his throat, and the applause finally fades. "So, on to some funny stories about John." John chuckles as Sherlock looks at the guests. "If you could all just cheer up a bit, that would," the guests laugh. "be better. On we go."


	27. 27: Let's play murder

Chapter twenty-seven

Let's play murder

So, for funny stories," Sherlock reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone. "one has to look no further than John's blog." He holds up the phone. John laughs. "The record of our time together. Of course, he does tend to romanticize things a bit, but then, you know he's a romantic. We've tackled some strange cases: the Hollow Client, the Poison Giant, we've had some frustrating cases, touching cases and of course I just have to mention the elephant in the room." John and I laughed in remembrance of that one! Sherlock's eyes flitted over towards me. "Tammy had a very, very, memorable reaction to that case. Told me to solve it in one hour or she was moving out!"

Charles asks. "What do you mean?"

"Someone got a real live elephant in our flat. Long story, read John's blog it explains it better than I could. You should have seen the look on Sherlock's face!"

"But we want something ... very particular for this special day, don't we? The Bloody Guardsman." Sherlock dramatically launches into the case. "Private Bainbridge had just come off guard duty. He'd stood there for hours; plenty of people watching, nothing apparently wrong. He came off duty and within minutes was nearly dead from a wound in his stomach, but there was no weapon. Where did it go? Ladies and gentlemen, I invite you to consider this: a murderer who can walk through walls, a weapon that can vanish, but in all of this there is only one element which can be said to be truly remarkable. Would anyone like to make a guess?" The guests fidget and look uncomfortably at each other. I begin fidgeting as well, when Sherlock invites people to deduce, it often goes awry. "Come on, come on, there is actually an element of Q and A to all of this." He clears his throat before picking a victim. "Scotland Yard." Greg lifts his head uncertainly. "Have you got a theory?" Greg stares at him blankly. "Yeah, you. You're a detective, broadly speaking. Got a theory?"

Poor Greg begins to stutter and stammer under pressure. "Er, um, if the, uh, if the, if-if-if, if the blade was, er, propelled through the, um," he pauses to think for a moment. "grating in the air vent, maybe a-a baluster or a catapult. Erm, somebody tiny could-could crawl in there." He sucks in a breath. "So, yeah, we're looking for a-a-a-a dwarf."

Sherlock is staring at him blankly. "Brilliant."

"Really?"

Sherlock replies instantly. "No. Next!" Someone whispers something, which doesn't escape Sherlock's ears. "Hello? Who was that? Tom." Tom slowly stands up. "Got a theory?"

Tom shifts back and forth nervously before speaking slowly. "Um attempted suicide, with a blade made of compacted blood and bone," I glance at Charles who is shaking his head in wonder. Did the man not listen to _anything _Sherlock had said? "broke after piercing his abdomen ... like a meat ... dagger."

Molly's face is a picture of disbelief. Sherlock thankfully doesn't call Tom an idiot, even though that's what he obviously is. "A meat dagger."

"Yes."

"Sit down." Molly growls through her teeth at Tom.

"No." Sherlock says before turning towards the guests. His eyes land on me and I bite my lip, releasing it too soon. "Now…Mrs. Holmes," I close my eyes and shake my head. "have _you _a theory?"

I grit my teeth and begin thinking. I was there; I begin thinking through all the facts. "Well…I don't think he was stabbed in the shower." Sherlock's brows rise in interest. "You and John at the time said there was _a lot _of blood. Someone who'd been stabbed in the shower, their first reaction would have been to unlock the shower and go for help."

Sherlock studies me. "So you believe he was stabbed before showering?"

"Yes." I nod. "He then realized he was bleeding too late."

"How?"

Exasperated, I say. "That darling," he frowns at me using that term of endearment in front of the wedding company. "is where _your _brain comes into play. Not mine. Mine's average, remember?"

He nods. "True. However,

"Shouldn't you get back to your speech darling?" By using 'darling' in public, I gave him a subtle hint that I wasn't liking the spotlight on me.

"As I was going to say, as farfetched as Tammy's ideas are, she's often right." Everyone laughs as he turns back to the guests. "There was one feature, and only one feature, of interest in the whole of this baffling case, and quite frankly it was the usual. John Watson, who, while I was trying to solve the murder, instead saved a life. There are mysteries worth solving and stories worth telling." He looks down at John. "The best and bravest man I know – and on top of that he actually knows how to do stuff." John lowers his head and chuckles with embarrassment. "Except wedding planning and serviettes, he's rubbish at those." The guests laugh. "The case itself remains the most ingenious and brilliantly-planned murder, or attempted murder, I've ever had the pleasure to encounter; the most perfect locked-room mystery of which I am aware. However, I'm not just here to praise John, I'm also here to embarrass him, so let's move on to some-

Greg interrupts. "No, no, wait, so how was it ... how was it done?"

Sherlock blinks dumbly. "How was what done?"

"The stabbing."

Sherlock looks down awkwardly for a few moments. "I'm afraid I don't know. I didn't solve that one. That's ...it can happen sometimes. It's very ...very disappointing." He then takes a breath and looks out to the guests again. "Embarrassment leads me on to the stag night. Of course there's hours of material here, but I've cut it down to the really good bits."

Mary spoke up. "Tammy actually filmed the stag night," Sherlock glowered at her. "so, if anyone wants a copy, just ask."

I glanced at Sherlock, took in his glowering expression and lied for his sake. "Actually, being married to Sherlock has its cons. Him having no sense of humor is one of them. He found and destroyed all thirty copies." Everyone groaned and I shrugged. "I'm sorry."

Sherlock shoots me a grateful smile and turns back to the audience. "Needless to say that is the _last _time I am going to get drunk because I never know what my wife is going to do." He rubbed his head painfully. "Waking up to her voice when you've got a hangover is punishment enough." Everyone laughed. "She's a singer, so she can _really _hit those high notes." He claps his hands. "But, we're not talking about my wife, we're talking about John."

Charles leans forward and whispers. "Did he really delete all 30 copies?"

"Let's just say 15 out of 30."

"However, it does help to further illustrate how invaluable John is to me. I can read a crime scene the way he can understand a human being. I used to think that's what made me special, quite frankly, I still do." I shake my head at his words. "But a word to the wise: should any of you require the services of either of us, I will solve your murder, but it takes John Watson to save your life. Trust me on that, I should know. He's saved mine so many times, and in so many ways." He holds up his phone. "This blog is the story of two men and their frankly ridiculous adventures…of murder, mystery and mayhem. But from now on, there's a new story, a bigger adventure." He looks down at the newlyweds. "Ladies and gentlemen, pray charge your glasses and be upstanding. "He picks up his glass while the guests do likewise and stand up. The children mimic our actions with their juice, getting a smile from their father. I don't have any champagne so I raise my water glass. The photographer walks forward with his camera. Sherlock raises his glass. "Today begin the adventures of Mary Elizabeth Watson and John Hamish Watson. The two reasons why every single one of us is,"

Suddenly, Sherlock stops, freezing in place, staring blindly ahead. The photographer snaps several photos of him but the popping flashbulb doesn't make him react. My heart pauses, I know that look, something's wrong and it's _not _a good sign. Sherlock looses the grip on his champagne glass. Only once his champagne glass smashes on the floor does he come out of his trance. Linda and Sherlock unfortunately follow his example by smashing their glasses.

The headwaiter hurries over to him. "Another glass, sir?"

Sherlock takes the offered glass from him. "Thank you, yes. Thank you, yes." He looks out at the guests, briefly locking eye contact with me. I read him instantly, knowing that something dreadful is going to happen. He gives me a brief nod, confirming that something is wrong. He then shakes his head a little. "Ah, yes. Raising glasses and standing up. Very good. Thank you. "Sherlock raises both hands and gestures downwards. "And down again." Confused, the guests start to sit down, murmuring amongst themselves. Sherlock puts his glass down on the table. "Ladies and gentlemen, people tell you not to milk a good speech, get off early, leave 'em laughing. Wise advice I'll certainly try to bear in mind. But for now, "He puts one hand on the table and quickly vaults over to the other side. "Part two." He walks into the central aisle between the tables. "Part two is more action-based. I'm gonna ... walk around, shake things up a bit." He looks at people as he walks past, studying each of them carefully. "Who'd go to a wedding? That's the question. Who would bother to go to any lengths to get themselves to a wedding?" Two thirds of the way along the room he turns around. "Well, everyone." He claps his hands once. "Weddings are great! Love a wedding."

I lean forward, focusing on him. "All right Sherlock," I whisper. "what is it?"

Sherlock points towards John as he heads back towards them. "And John's great, too! Haven't said that enough. Barely scratched the surface. I could go on all night about the depth and complexity of his ... jumpers." John closes his eyes in disbelief, while Sherlock is pacing and turning back and forth, peering at each of the guests. "And he can cook. Does ... a ... thing ... thing with peas... once. Might not be peas. Might not be him. But he's got a great singing voice ... or somebody does." He sighs in frustration, his teeth clenched. "Ahh, too many," Sherlock spins around the room. "too many, too many, too many!" Again, his personality switches from frustration back to casual again. "Sorry. Too many jokes about John! Now, where was I? Ah, yes ...speech!" He points towards the main table, grinning round at the guests. "Speech." He claps his hands together again. Let's talk about ... murder.

_That _catches everyone's attention. John sighs and lowers his head. I still haven't sat down, neither have the children. All three of us are focused on Sherlock, trying to figure out what's going on. What did we miss?

"Sorry, did I say 'murder'? I meant to say 'marriage' – but, you know, they're quite similar procedures when you think about it. The participants tend to know each other, and it's over when one of them is dead. But then that's not always the case is it? In fairness, murder is a lot quicker, though. Janine!" Janine looks up at him in surprise. He moves to stand behind one of the male guests. "What about this one? Acceptably hot? More importantly, his girlfriend's wearing brand-new uncomfortable underwear…. and hasn't bothered to pick this thread off the top of his jacket or point out the grease smudge on the back of his neck. Currently, he's going home alone. Also, he's a comics and sci-fi geek. They're always tremendously grateful, really put the hours in." he turns to Greg. "Geoff, the gents." He jerks his head towards the door. "The loos, now, please."

"It's Greg."

"The loos, please."

Greg's phone beeps a text alert, he reaching into his pocket. "Why?"

"Oh, I don't know." Sherlock says tightly. "Maybe it's your turn."

He jerks his head towards the door again. Greg looks down at his phone, his eyes flash and he nods. "Yeah, actually, now you mention it."

"Sherlock," John asks. "any chance of a, an end date for this speech? Gotta cut the cake."

Sherlock smiles widely and practically dances down the aisle. "Oh! Ladies and gentlemen, can't stand it when I finally get the chance to speak for once, Vatican Cameos."

He directs the last two words directly to John, but Linda and Sherlock immediately dive under the table, pulling the tablecloth around them. Sherlock and I had taught them a few of our codes in case of trouble. "What's that mean?" Charles asks. "What is it?"

I shake my head. "Someone's going to die. For the children, it means that they're supposed to hide."

I hold my breath as Sherlock blinks rapidly before screwing his eyes shut again. Sherlock roars loudly with frustration and rage and slaps himself hard on the right cheek. "No!" He shouts loudly. "No!" Sherlock angrily points upwards. "Not you! Not you!"

"Sherlock!" I sharply respond and he whips around to look at me. I give him an even stare. "Go back…to the facts."

Almost immediately, Sherlock calms down and lowers his hands a little to point his fingers towards the top table. "You." John straightens as Sherlock walks towards him. "It's always you. John Watson, you keep me right." Sherlock and John converse briefly and I can't hear them. Sherlock turns towards the guests again with a grin on his face. "Sorry, off-piste a bit. Back now." He claps his hands together and looks down at the floor. "Let's play a game. Let's play Murder."


	28. 28: Drama queen

Chapter twenty-eight

Drama Queen

Mrs. Hudson shakes her head disapprovingly. "Sherlock."

He ignores her. "Imagine someone's going to get murdered at a wedding. Who exactly would you pick?"

"I think you're a popular choice at the moment," Mrs. Hudson comments. "dear."

Sherlock gestures behind him. "If someone could move Mrs. Hudson's glass just slightly out of reach that would be lovely." I step towards Mrs. Hudson. "More importantly, who could you only kill at a wedding?"

She frowns. "Tammy?"

"Sorry Mrs. Hudson," I whisper hotly. "but someone's going to die. He's trying to find out who and how to prevent it."

She gasps and straightens. Sherlock turns back to look at the guests and eyeing them carefully. "Most people you can kill any old place. As a mental exercise, I've often planned the murder of friends and colleagues." He rubs his hands together in an almost evil manner. "Now John I'd poison." Mary nervously looks towards her husband. "Sloppy eater, dead easy. I've given him chemicals and compounds – that way, he's never even noticed. He missed a whole Wednesday once, didn't have a clue." My mouth drops open in alarm and I wonder if he's tried any on me! "Lestrade's so easy to kill; it's a miracle no-one succumbed to the temptation. I've got a pair of keys to my brother's house; I could easily break in there and asphyxiate him." He makes strangling gestures with his hands. "If, if the whim arose."

Tom lets out an 'Ow' and I observe him rubbing his hand, from where Molly's stabbed him with a plastic fork. I shake my head. "Sherlock was right again." Tom frowns at me. "I guess you two are breaking up." They both gape at me in shock.

"So, once again, who could you only kill here?" He twirls his fingers in thought. "Clearly it's a rare opportunity, so it's someone who doesn't get out much. Someone for whom a planned social encounter known about months in advance is an exception. Has to be a unique opportunity. And since killing someone in public is difficult…killing them in private isn't an option." Light breaks in my head and I step in front of him. His eyes narrow. "What?"

I stretch up and whisper in his ear. "It is Major Sholto."

He pauses and turns to gaze at Sholto, who seems to know exactly what we're talking about him. I remember hearing some things about Major Sholto that lead one to believe he was a very unpopular man. Sherlock squeezes my hand. "Wonderful job Tammy." He kisses my cheek. "Go sit down. And do get the kids up from under the table." I nod and directly back to my seat, while Sherlock tries to nonchalantly write on the name card to give it to Sholto. He continues talking. "Someone who lives in an inaccessible or unknown location, then. Someone private, perhaps, obsessed with personal security. A recluse, small household staff, high turnover for additional security. Probably all signed confidentiality agreements." I pull the kids out from under the table and encourage them to take their seats. They sit there; mouths open slightly, watching their father in action. "There is another question that remains, however – a big one, a huge one: how would you do it? How would you kill someone in public? There has to be a way. This has been planned."

Archie begins jumping up excitedly from his chair. "Mr. Holmes! Mr. Holmes!"

Sherlock turns towards him with a smile. "Oh, hello again, Archie." He bends forward to get more down to Archie's level. "What's your theory? Get this right and there's a headless nun in it for you."

"Sherlock!" I shout.

"If Tammy doesn't catch me handing it over to you."

"The invisible man could do it."

"The who, the what, the why, the when, the where?"

"The invisible man with the invisible knife." He says excitedly. "The one who tried to kill the Guardsman."

Sherlock gasps and straightens up, his eyes wide. Behind him, Major Sholto gets to his feet, picks up his ceremonial sword, and turns to walk towards the door. Sherlock turns his head away, closing his eyes for a moment. Then he opens them again. I know _that look_; he's got it.

I whisper to Charles. "He's got it."

"Oh, not just planned." Sherlock whispers softly. "Planned and rehearsed." Sherlock heads quickly towards the top table, swiping someone's champagne glass from a table as he goes to John and Mary's table. "Ladies and gentlemen, there will now be a short interlude." He holds up his glass. "To the bride and groom!"

The guests stand up and raise their glasses. "The bride and groom."

Instantly Sherlock turns back and bends down to John. "Major Sholto's going to be murdered. I don't know how or by whom, but it's going to happen." He turns and starts making his way through the guests. "Excuse me, coming through! Consulting!"

I turn to Charles. "Watch the kids; I'm going to be right back!"

"Tammy!" He calls after me. I ignore him and hurry after Sherlock. "Be careful! Don't run!"

His words hit me and I slow down to a brisk walk. John passes me by and Mary catches up with me. She shakes her head. "I can't believe this."

"Believe it!" I said. "I'm sorry it had to happen to you, but I don't know how Sherlock and I survived without a case going on during our wedding!"

We reach the staircase to find Sherlock with his fingers against his temples, telling me he's forgotten something. "How can you not remember which room? You remember everything."

Sherlock snaps irritably at him. "I have to delete something!"

Mary runs up the stairs in between them, holding her skirt up with one hand. "207."

The boys chase after her with Sherlock immediately taking the lead. Mary grabs onto John's hand for support and I grab onto the handrail for support as I run up the stairs to the second floor. Thank God it wasn't the fifth floor!

Sherlock knocks on the door of Room 207 and tries the handle. "Major Sholto? Major Sholto!" He pounds repeatedly on the door. "Major Sholto!"

Sholto finally speaks up. "If someone's about to make an attempt on my life, it won't be the first time. I'm ready."

John walks towards the door. "Major, let us in." He asks firmly.

Sherlock steps back, shaking out his right hand and flexing the fingers. I step alongside him and casually rub his knuckles for a few seconds.

"Kick the door down." Mary says.

"I really wouldn't." Sholto says. "I have a gun in my hand and a lifetime of unfortunate reflexes."

Sherlock walks closer to the door again. "You're not safe in there. Whoever's after you, we know that a locked room doesn't stop him."

"The invisible man with the invisible knife." Sholto repeats Archie's words dryly.

"I don't know how he does it, so I can't stop him, and that means he'll do it again."

Sholto sternly demands. "Solve it then."

Sherlock is momentarily taken aback. "I'm sorry?"

"You're the famous Mr. Holmes. Solve the case, on you go." Sherlock straightens up. "Tell me how he did it and I'll open the door."

John steps forward towards the door. "Please, this is no time for games. Just let us in! You're in danger!"

"So are you," the major points out. "so long as you're here." Sherlock begins pacing back and forth. "Please, leave me. Despite my reputation, I really don't approve of collateral damage."

Mary turns to Sherlock. "Solve it."

He stops and looks at her. "Sorry?"

"Solve it, and he'll open the door," Mary points out. "like he said."

"If I couldn't solve it before, how can I solve it now?"

"Because it matters now."

"What are you talking about? What's she talking about?" he looks to John and snaps. "Get your wife under control!"

"She's right." John says quietly.

"Oh," Sherlock says indignantly. "you've changed!"

"No, she is." John turns and points at him. "Shut up. You are not a puzzle-solver, you never have been." He points at me. "That's her department!" I frown at John as he jabs a finger in Sherlock's direction. "You're a drama queen." Sherlock's mouth drops open and he stares at him in shocked indignation as John's voice grows louder. "Now, there is a man in there about to die, the game is on." He angrily points at the door. "Solve it!"

Sherlock's eyes suddenly snap upwards before closing. I add quietly. "But calm down…no one responds well under pressure."

Sherlock's eyes flash open and he smiles. He steps over to Mary and kisses her forehead. Her mouth drops open as Sherlock releases her, then pointing towards John. "Though, in fairness, he's a drama queen too."

"Yeah," Mary agrees. "I know."

John frowns. Sherlock kisses me quickly on the mouth. "Don't know what I'd do without you either." He goes over to the door and speaks loudly. "Major Sholto, no one's coming to kill you." I frown. "I'm afraid you've already been killed several hours ago."

Everyone is surprised at that ludicrous comment. "What did you say?"

"Don't take off your belt."

Sholto is surprised. "My belt?"

He nods and turns around towards us. "His belt, yes. Bainbridge was stabbed hours before we even saw him, but it was through his belt. Tammy was right after all, even if her mind couldn't process it completely. Tight belt, worn high on the waist, very easy to push a small blade through the fabric and you wouldn't even feel it."

John nods understandingly. "The belt would bind the flesh together when it was tied tight-

Sherlock nods. "Exactly."

"And when you took it off-

"Delayed action stabbing, all the time in the world to create an alibi." He shakes the door handle. "Major Sholto?"

"So," he says dryly. "I was to be killed by my uniform. How appropriate."

"He solved the case, Major." Mary says. "You're supposed to open the door now. A deal is a deal."

I shake my head and whisper to Sherlock. "He's not going to honor that promise."

"I'm not even supposed to have this any more." Sholto says. "They gave me special dispensation to keep it. I couldn't imagine life out of this uniform. I suppose, given the circumstances, I don't have to." His tone changes to depressed. "When so many want you dead, it hardly seems good manners to argue."

My eyes widen at the suggestion in his tone. "Whatever you're doing in there, James, stop it, right now." John orders sharply. "I will kick this door down."

"Mr. Holmes," Sherlock steps towards the door. "you and I are similar, I think."

"Yes, I think we are."

"There's a proper time to die, isn't there?"

Sherlock nods. "Of course there is."

"And one should embrace it when it comes, like a soldier."

Sherlock responds firmly. "Of course one should, but not at John's wedding. We wouldn't do that, would we, you and me? We would _never_ do that to John Watson." I hold my breath, waiting for any sounds from within the room.

John walks towards the door and takes his jacket off. "I'm gonna break it down."

"No, wait, wait," Mary says quickly. "you won't have to."

The door opens and there stands Sholto. He glances briefly at Sherlock before looking at John. "I believe I am in need of medical attention."

John smiles faintly. "I believe I am your doctor."

He follows Sholto as he turns and goes back into the room with Mary following him. Sherlock closes his eyes for a moment. I smile. "I am so proud of you." He opens his eyes and wraps his arms around me. "Every time, I think I cannot possibly be more in love with you, you do something like this and I fall more in love with you."

He laughs. "So you did marry me for my brains then?"

I tilt my head to the side. "Maybe…I did. Or…maybe I just married you for the way you make me feel."

"And how is that?"

I smile saucily as I lean forward and whisper into his ear. "Hot…and wet."

Sherlock lets out a groan. "Don't say things like that, else I shall drag you into one of these rooms and have you against the wall."

I nip his ear. "What's stopping you?"

He instantly pulls me into a frantic, open mouthed kiss. But the sound of footsteps cause us to separate. We turn to see Charles chasing after Linda and Sherlock, who are dead ahead of him.

"Mommy! Daddy!" They shriek as they run behind up to us.

Sherlock immediately picks up Linda. He glowers at Charles. "What did you do to them?"

Charles stares at him in indignation. "What did _I do_? The better question is, what did you turn your children into? They wouldn't sit still, in fact, I've been chasing them all over this hotel while they look for you."

I smirk and kiss Sherlock's cheek. "That's your children for you."

Sherlock glowers at me. Mary comes out. "Oh, Sherlock, we're going to need you in here." She turns to me. "Tammy, can you do something with the guests?"

I nod. "I'll take them into the party room. There's a piano there, I can sing or something." I pull Linda out of Sherlock's arms and set her on the ground. "Come on, let's go."

"I'll be looking for you!" Sherlock calls after me.

I smile and wink at him. "You know where to find me!" I turn to Charles. "Charles, would you mind—

"No!" He states firmly. "I am not babysitting again!"

I laugh. "I was going to ask if you'd accompany me on the guitar, if they have one."

Charles exhales. "That I can do. But no more babysitting."

"And," I add casually. "Molly Hooper is going to be going home single again." He blinks once. "She's breaking her engagement to Tom today."

"And…why would that interest me?"

"Why don't you tell me why it wouldn't interest you?" I smirk. "I think you and her should get together."

"Thank you, but at the moment, I'm interested in nothing but the guitar."

"You know a guitar has everything a girl has?" Charles scowls at me. "A smooth slender neck, a few curves in the right places, and as long as you're willing to play, she keeps stringing you along."

"I'm positive Sherlock didn't marry you for your jokes, because they stink."


	29. 29: The man behind the camera

Chapter twenty-nine

The man behind the camera

I sang for one solid hour. I was so glad for my nightclub experience. This was one of my most tricky audiences ever. Everyone was jumpy, so I had to rely on bouncy, fun songs to attract everyone's attention. Then I threw in trivia and allowed people to make requests. Then finally, Sherlock, John and Mary came out. Sherlock shot me a subtle thumb up. I was in the middle of 'Love is a many splendored thing' so I couldn't go straight to him.

Sherlock walked over to Janine and engaged her in a conversation before moving her in the direction of the foyer. I kept my emotions intact and tried to get my raging hormones under control. This was so unlike me and it was frankly beginning to drive me crazy.

Once the song ended, I took my bow and went to find Sherlock. Or at least I tried to, but the mob frankly wouldn't let me get through easily. I finally made it to the foyer to find Sherlock and Janine waltzing together. Sherlock is counting time. "One, two, three, one two three. Ahh, pretty good." Sherlock releases her. "Just ... hold your nerve on your turning."

Janine adjusts the top of her strapless bridesmaid's dress. What most women don't realize is that if they actually have to pull the dress top up, it's too big for them. "Why do we have to rehearse?"

Sherlock responds. "Because we are about to dance together in public, and your skills are appalling!"

She laughs. "Well, you're a good teacher." Sherlock dips his head modestly. "And you're a brilliant dancer."

Sherlock whispers quietly, leaning towards her. "I'll let you in on something, Janine."

She whispers back. "Go on, then."

"I love dancing." My mouth drops open in surprise. "I've always loved it."

"Seriously?"

I step into the room just as Sherlock spins into a full-circle pirouette. Janine smiles and laughs approvingly. Sherlock smiles at me, clearing his throat. "Never really comes up in crime work but, um, you know, I live in hope of the right case."

Janine sighs wistfully. "I wish you weren't….whatever it is you are."

He nods. "I know." He turns towards me and bobs his head at Janine. "Excuse me." I smile as he approaches me. "If you breathe a word-

I shame my head. "I didn't say anything." I wrap my arms around his neck, rest my head against his shoulder as I breathe him. "Oh, you know I haven't been close to you all day."

Sherlock nods. "You did a great job keeping everyone busy, and of course your input was on the case was helpful."

"I'm happy to help in any little way I can." I smile and run my fingers through his hair. "You look very handsome just now."

Sherlock frowns. "You seem very happy about something."

I nod. "I am."

"Care to let me in on it?"

I hesitate, the moment almost seems right, except for Janine. I gaze into Sherlock's eyes and concentrate on him. "Sherlock…I'm

"Well," John says behind me and we separate. "glad to see you've pulled, Sherlock, what with murderers running riot at my wedding."

John claps his hand on Sherlock's back. "One murder, one nearly murderer." He turns to Janine who is looking slightly sulky. "Loves to exaggerate, you should try living with him."

The side entrance door opens and Greg comes in. "Sherlock?" He points back out the door. "Got him for you."

Sherlock claps his hands together as the wedding photographer walks in. "Ah, the photographer. Excellent! Thank you."

"No way!" I say loudly as Sherlock walks over to the photographer and points at his camera.

"May I have a look at your camera?"

The photographer is a little nervous, but he hands the camera over anyway. "What's this about? I was halfway home!"

"You should have driven faster." Sherlock says as begins clicking through the pictures. "Ah, yes. Yes, very good. There, you see?" He smiles. "Perfect."

"What is?" Greg asks. "You gonna tell us?"

He hands the camera to Greg. "Try looking yourself."

John walks towards Greg. "Um, look for what?" Janine also walks over. Sherlock leans closer to the photographer. "Is the murderer in these photographs?"

"It's not what's in the photographs; it's what's not in them," Sherlock points out. "not in any of them."

"Sherlock? The showing-off thing," John says impatiently. "we've discussed it before."

"I rather like it when he shows off," I comment. "so Sherlock please, deduce away."

"There is always a man at a wedding who is not in any photograph but can go anywhere, and even carry an equipment bag around with him if he likes, and you never even see his face. You only ever see," Sherlock pulls a pair of handcuffs from behind his back and snaps it around the photographer's wrist. He then slaps the other cuff around the frame of a nearby luggage trolley. "the camera."

"What are you doing?" the photographer demands. "What is this?

Sherlock holds up his phone to show the screen to the others. "Jonathan Small, today's substitute wedding photographer, known to us as the Mayfly Man. His brother was one of the raw recruits killed in that incursion. Johnny sought revenge on Sholto, worked his way through Sholto's staff, found what he needed, an invitation to a wedding, the onetime Sholto would have to be out in public. So, he made his plan and rehearsed the murder ... making sure of every last detail." The whole time Small looks calmly at Sherlock. "Brilliant, ruthless, almost certainly a monomaniac, though, in fairness, his photographs are actually quite good." He tosses his phone to Greg. "Everything you need's on that. You probably ought to ... arrest him or something."

Janine leans closer to Sherlock. "Do you always carry handcuffs?"

"Down, girl." He mutters.

Mary runs in, holding out her hand out to John. "Come on, quick!" She pauses as soon as she sees Small handcuffed to the luggage carrier.

Small is looking at Sherlock fixedly. "It's not me you should be arresting, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock shrugs. "Oh, I don't do the arresting." He nods towards Greg. "I just farm that out."

"Sholto, he's the killer, not me. I should have killed him quicker." He grins for a moment before shaking his head. "I shouldn't have tried to be clever."

Sherlock speaks softly. "You should have driven faster."

Sherlock takes his hands from behind his back and turns to me. "Sorry, got to go." He kisses me quickly on the lips. "Save the last dance for me?"

I smile. "Indeed Mr. Holmes, you shall them all."

He grins. "I'll be waiting for you."

I smile as he offers his arm to Janine and they walk away towards the floor. John and Mary follow them. Greg looks down at Sherlock's phone, and then looks at Small. "Right."

I apologize. "I'm sorry Greg; you can't even take one day off."

"Yeah." He exhales. "Nothing escapes Sherlock."

I laugh. "Actually, something's do." I turn to my profile and pull the material around my waistline. I glance at Greg; he doesn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. I smooth my hand over the bump and his eyes finally zoom in on the lump that's beginning to expand.

"Oh God," he stares at me. "Tammy. You're pregnant again?"

I nod. "Yes. I'm approaching four months now. He hasn't figured it out yet."

Greg laughs. "You're kidding?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm actually going to tell him tonight."

"Don't tell him unless I'm there. I want to see his face when you tell him!"


	30. 30: Oh! What a night!

Chapter thirty

Oh! What a night!

It was a beautiful moment to see John and Mary waltz together. Sherlock was in his prime tonight. The music was beautiful, perfectly suited to John and Mary. I watch Sherlock as he gently sways back and forth while playing; his eyes fixed on the newlyweds. As the melody draws to an end, John dips Mary backwards.

Mary gasps in surprise. "Really?"

John chuckles as he bends her back. He kisses her as the melody ends. The guests break into applause and some of them cheer. I look up at Sherlock, pride shining brightly in my eyes as I applaud him. Janine, who is directing her applause towards Sherlock as well, whoops loudly at him.

Sherlock looks at her for a moment, with a hint of irritation in his eyes, before turning back to the music stand. He takes his buttonhole flower, which he'd removed earlier so he wouldn't crush it while playing the violin. He locks eyes with me, kisses the flowers and then tosses it across the room at me. I catch it easily, but prefer to wait until he's there to pin it on me. Sherlock steps to the nearby microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, just, one last thing before the evening begins properly. Apologies for earlier, a crisis arose and was dealt with." He draws in a breath. "More importantly, however, today we saw two people make vows. I've never made a vow in my life that I've been able to stick to completely. But here in front of you all, I do make this vow. Mary and John, whatever it takes, whatever happens, from now on I swear I will always be there, always, for all three of you." He hesitates momentarily, and then stutters. "I'm sorry, I mean, I mean two of you. All two of you, both of you, in fact. I've just miscounted." He takes a sharp breath and attempts to brush it off. But now, everyone is wondering what he means. "Anyway, it's time for dancing." He turns to the DJ on the stage. "Play the music again, please, thank you." Disco lights begin to flash and the familiar sound of Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons' song singing, "December, 1963 (Oh What A Night)" starts to play. "Okay, everybody, just dance. Don't be shy!" He walks down off the stage, still gesturing to the crowd. "Dancing, please!"

I approach him, swirling his buttonhole flower between my fingers. "Three Sherlock?"

He ignores me. "Need help with that?"

"Yes please." I smile as he clips it to the center of my sweetheart neckline. "Thank you."

"Come on." I take his arm as we walk over to Mary and John who look frankly curious. "Sorry, that was one more deduction than I was really expecting."

"Deduction?" Mary asks skeptically.

Sherlock studies her intensely. "Increased appetite, change of taste perception  
and you were sick this morning. You assumed it was just wedding nerves." I catch on instantly and begin grinning broadly. "You got angry with me when I mentioned it to you. All the signs are there."

Mary stares at him. "The signs?"

Sherlock glances at John. "The signs of three."

Sherlock's gaze drops to her abdomen and Mary reacts. "What?!"

"Mary, I think you should do a pregnancy test." John sighs and drops his head, almost bending over double. Mary looks incandescently happy. "Well, the statistics for the first trimester are-

John straightens up. "Shut up." Sherlock freezes in the middle of forming his next word. He looks at John out of the corner of his eye, patiently waiting for permission to continue. "Just ... shut up."

"Sorry."

John turns to Mary, looking extremely annoyed with himself. "How did _he_ notice before me? I'm a bloody doctor."

"It's _your_ day off." Sherlock points out.

"It's _your_ day off!" John barks back at him.

"Stop," Sherlock says. "stop panicking."

John is in denial. "I'm not panicking."

"I'm pregnant," Mary gasps out. "I'm panicking."

"Don't panic." Sherlock says firmly. "None of you panic." John and Mary look at Sherlock with concern. "Absolutely no reason to panic."

"Oh," John says sarcastically. "and you'd know, of course?"

"Yes, I would." He states matter-of-factly. "You're already the best parents in the world." Sherlock points out. "Look at all the practice you've had!"

John asks. "What practice?"

"Well, you're hardly gonna need me around now that you've got a _real_ baby on the way."

I laugh and shake my head in amusement. It's so odd that Sherlock noticed that Mary was pregnant, but he didn't notice that I was. John laughs and places a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. I place my hand on Mary's and Sherlock's just as John places his other hand on her shoulder as she begins to smile with delight. "You all right?" he asks her.

She's a little breathless. "Yeah."

All of us look at each other during the silent pause for a couple of seconds. We just stand there, a small circle, all touching, memorizing this moment together.

Then Sherlock speaks abruptly, shattering the moment. "Dance. Both of you, now, go dance. We can't just stand here. People will wonder what we're talking about."

"Right." John says.

I turn to him. "I trust we're going to be dancing before going upstairs."

Sherlock shakes his head. "Actually, Mrs. Hudson is going to be keeping an open ear on the kids, since she is in the room next to us." He whispers. "I've got something special planned for you, remember?"

I nod and smirk. "How could I forget? But can we dance once first before you drag me off?"

He nods. "Fine. One dance."

Mary turns to John. "Come on, husband, let's go."

John points over his shoulder to the dancers on the floor. "This isn't a waltz, is it?"

I shake my head. "It's the samba, John."

"Don't worry Mary," Sherlock says. "I have been tutoring him."

"He did, you know," John said, "Baker Street, behind closed curtains. Mrs. Hudson came in one time. Don't know how those rumors started!"

I laugh. "Neither do I."

Sherlock hold out his hand. "Shall we?"

I nod. "I thought you'd never ask." I hesitate before asking. "I don't suppose could we just…slow dance?"

Sherlock frowns as he pulls me into ballroom position. "Ok, what's wrong with you?"

I shrug. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"Wrong!" He begins to botafogo with me. "You hate slow dancing, in your opinion all modern dancing is a wallpaper paste, imitation of the art of ballroom dancing." I laugh as he leads me back into the basic. 'In fact, you said that you had something to tell me earlier? What was it?"

I decide that while this isn't the best moment to tell him, it was probably going to be the only moment I was going to be able to tell him. "Sherlock, stop dancing for a moment." He stops, his hands still holding me in dance position. I inhale as I step closer to him. He frowns as I place my hands on his shoulders. "I'm…pregnant."

My voice is soft; I don't blurt it out to startle him. In fact, I'm not completely sure how he'll react to my news. In typical Sherlock fashion he stares at me, frozen in place and his eyes are wide. I hold my breath for what seems like the longest time before he finally breaks out of his stupor. "Pregnant?"

I nod. "Yes, Sherlock, we're going to have a baby."

"Pregnant?" he pronounces the word carefully. I nod my head happily as he stares down at me. "You can't be pregnant! You haven't shown any signs."

I shake my head. "I'm too close to you Sherlock, like John is to Mary." I hold my finger up to his nose. "My finger is out of focus." I draw my hand back slowly. "You have to step back…and look at me."

Sherlock's eyes narrow as he runs a hand down my abdomen, checking my body for any changes that he's missed. I smile as his hands pause on my stomach. His dexterous fingers have finally located the small lump that proves that my stomach is beginning to expand. I look up to see Janine, dancing with the science geek Sherlock had suggested she get together with earlier. She looks happy, but she and her new 'date' are giving Sherlock and I a curious glance.

I whisper. "Sherlock…we are in the middle of a dance floor. And you are….touching me rather…intimately."

"It's true." He whispers quietly before looking at me in astonishment. He shakes his head. "Oh God."

"Sherlock," I ask quietly. "aren't you…happy?"

"Happy?" he shakes his head dumbly. "No, I'm not happy. I'm…at a loss for words." I exhale in relief. Sherlock pulls me into his arms and swings me around. I let out a happy shriek as I cling tightly to his neck. He catches me around the back of my knees, so he's spinning me around bridal fashion. "You're really pregnant?"

I nod. "Obviously. You see it yourself now." He sets me down on the ground, but doesn't release me from his firm hold. "Sherlock," I gasp out. "we're in public, at John's wedding and people are looking."

"Who cares?" Sherlock kisses me deeply on the mouth. I flush, but can't resist clinging to him. After several precious moments, Sherlock breaks the kiss. Tears fill my eyes as he kisses my forehead and murmurs into my hair. "I love you."

"I love you too."

He runs his hands through my hair, slowly pulling me towards him again. The moments our lips touch, someone clears their throat. Sherlock won't release me until he decides that he wants to stop kissing me. I cover his hands with mine as we slowly pull apart.

John clears his throat. "Mind…if I ask what's going on? You two are creating quite a spectacle and…Sherlock _never _kisses you like _that _in public."

I blush happily as Sherlock responds quietly, while still gazing into my eyes. "John…Tammy's pregnant."

"Oh God!" John proclaims.

"No!" I say happily. "Oh what a night!"

Mary laughs. "So you finally told him."

Sherlock pulls away and glowers at me. "Finally? What does she mean finally?"

I exhale and confess. "Sherlock, I'm going on my fourth month."

His eyes flash. "And I didn't notice?!"

I kiss him soundly. "You can't notice everything."

"Of course I'm supposed to notice everything! It's my job to notice everything!" He says indignantly. "If I didn't notice everything we'd be in a great deal of trouble."

"Sherlock," I ask. "the moment. You're ruining it."

Mary hugs Sherlock. "And you're going to be around for her this time! Isn't it wonderful?"

John frowns. "I'd say horrid."

"Let's say in-between." I offer. I turn to Sherlock. "Let's dance."

He frowns. "Dance?" I nod. "Right now?" I nod again. "In your condition?"

"Yes!" I laugh.

"Certainly not!"

"It's perfectly safe." John says. "She'll be fine."

"But she's carrying a baby! My baby!" He protests. "And we were just doing samba a moment ago, all that bouncing and twisting! That cannot be good for the baby."

"Tammy's made of sturdy stuff." John pointed out. "She survived your 'suicide,' getting shot and Mycroft's proposal and she still delivered the twins in perfect condition. One little dance isn't going to hurt her."

Sherlock blinked once before saying. "Actually, we can't dance anyway; we've got a…date."

"Oh, yes!" I hug John and Mary. "Sorry we've got to go so suddenly." Sherlock steers me towards the door and I stare at him. "I wasn't done talking with them."

"You can talk to them later. This is their wedding day and we're only going to have a few hours together."

"Where are we going?"

"Outside." His eyes spark. "There's a secluded hill a few miles out where…I shall make love to you in the grass, under the moon."

I shiver. "Sounds…chilly, but…deliciously wrong at the same time."

"And," he says as he leans in close to me. "it's going to be"

"Sherlock?" Sherlock groans at the sound of Greg's voice. "Can I have a word with you?"

I smile. "I need to get my coat anyway. It won't take too long. You wait for me; I'll be down as soon as I can!"

Sherlock pouts as I move towards the elevator. "Don't take too long!"

I give him a flirty wave as the elevator door closes. Our room is on the third floor, so it takes a while before the door finally dings open. I hum happily as I reach into my purse for my keys to open the door. I unlock the door and start to enter in, when suddenly; someone gives me a shove from behind, sending me sprawling to the ground!

I am able to throw my hands out in front of me and grab onto the couch. Fortunately, I am able to break my fall and avoid landing on my stomach. I gasp for air and turn around to look up just as this masked man moves towards me rapidly. I open my mouth and scream. He hits me with something hard over the back of my head, sending me into blackness.


	31. 31: Explicit trust

Chapter thirty-one

Explicit trust

My head aches dreadfully, I groan as I try to open my eyes. "Tammy?" My eyes flutter open at the sound of Sherlock's voice. His eyes are blazing with concern and I detect anger in his eyes as well.

"What…happened?" I ask as I struggle to sit up. "Sherlock…there was a-

"Burglar." He interrupts me, glancing up. "Lestrade has him under arrest. He didn't get anything of value."

I look around and then jump up. "The children!" The room swayed and I reached for Sherlock. "What's going on."

"He hit you on the head; you're going to feel a bit dizzy." Sherlock steadied me. "They're fine Tammy, they were with Mrs. Hudson." He rolls his eyes. "Silly woman was reading them the story of Cinderella in her room. And Sherlock actually was interested in it!"

"More likely just the words." I exhale shakily. "Past their bedtime, but thank God for Mrs. Hudson!"

He shrugs. "I don't know about that, but I'm glad she had them."

"Tammy?" I spin around to see Greg entering the room. His eyes study me carefully. "Are you all right? Do you need a doctor?"

I shake my head. "No, he just hit me. I'm fine, honest."

"There's no sign of a concussion." Sherlock says quickly. "She's got a slight headache, but that is _all _inspector."

"I know you're concerned Sherlock, but you don't need to be rude." I respond softly as I turn towards Greg. "I've got Sherlock here; he's probably going to keep an eye on me all night. And he's right; I do only have a slight headache."

"Right." Greg steps forward and hugs me. "You get some sleep then."

I nod and pat his back. "Yes sir." He releases me and I turn to Sherlock. "Where are Sherlock and Linda now?"

He wraps his arm around my waist. "Sound asleep now. Fell asleep through all the noise."

I head towards their room. "I want to see them real quick. I won't disturb them."

"All right. I'm going to get you something for your head."

"Thank you." I push the door open and stand in the doorway, listen to them breathing heavily. I smile as I gaze at them from afar. I smile and carefully close the door, so I don't disturb them. I turn around, almost crashing into Sherlock. "So…where are we going?"

"We are going nowhere."

I groan. "Oh, Sherlock."

"I will listen to no argument from you. You got attacked, hit on the head," he licked his lips and swallowed. "and you're staying in this hotel room."

I pout. "Oh, can't you even tell me what we were going to be doing tonight?"

He shakes his head. "Why wish for something you can't have?" He reaches into his pocket and hands me a bottle of aspirin. "I'll get you a glass of water."

I shake my head. "Handcuffs, aspirin, what else do you have in your pockets?"

"A dozen other little knickknacks that I never leave the house without."

I smile and glance around the room. I move towards the balcony and step outside. It's a beautiful night; there's a full moon and a slight nip in the air. I run my hands over my neck, cracking it as I look upwards. I begin humming, 'the moon's a harsh mistress' as I admire the moon.

"Here." Sherlock says behind me, handing me my cup of water. "Drink this."

"Thank you." He hands me another pill and I frown. "What's this?"

"Something to help you, it works well with aspirin."

"Thank you, but my head doesn't really hurt, it's a dull ache. But, I shall please a worried man." I place the pills in my mouth and down the glass of water. As I set the cup aside, Sherlock begins to massage my shoulders. I moan in pleasure. "I like that."

He chuckles. "I seem to recall you telling me that once, a few years ago."

"Yes." I smile as I remember. "Our wedding night."

Sherlock's fingers travel downwards. "You were so scared; I could practically see your heart pounding through your chest."

"You were so kind, patient and gentle with me." He kisses my neck and I close my eyes. "It was beautiful."

He kisses my neck again. "I was a little surprised that you liked things a little rough."

I tremble as he continues kissing my neck, concentrating on one spot in particular. "I am not a passionate person by nature Sherlock, you know that. You just… happened to find something deep inside me, and it surfaced. No one else can make me feel the way you do."

"No one?"

"No one."

"Not even Charles?"

"Not him, not even your own brother."

He groans in disgust. "What does Mycroft have to do with this?"

"You've been jealous of him."

"On a rare occasion. He's never actually had a time to spark anything in you."

"You were gone two years, remember?"

His hands stilled. "What happened?"

"It was the day I was going to give birth to Sherlock and Linda, I was in the library. Mycroft offered to massage my neck, because I was so stiff. I allowed him to do it." Sherlock's fingers tightened slightly on my neck. "And I just…teleported back to our wedding night. For a moment….I thought he was you. I actually called your name."

"You did?"

I nod as I turn around towards him. "Twice." I touch his face gently. "I missed you dreadfully."

Sherlock exhales and he looks downwards. "Tammy…. I really hate to say this to you but…I'm going to have to explain to you a new code."

He just really threw that one out there. My guard goes up just a little bit. "Ok, what code is this?"

"Reichenbach."

"Reichenbach?" I bite my lip; something tells me that code Reichenbach isn't a good one. "And what exactly is…code Reichenbach?"

Sherlock exhales. "It's like a red alert."

"This isn't going to be good is it?"

"It's not. It means…that you won't be seeing me for a time period. I can't come into contact with you at all during that time." My eyes widen slightly. "You cannot go down into my flat. You must stay up in yours with the children and do not go down to mine, at any time. I'm even going to do things…that I know, you will not approve of, things that will upset you."

My heart pauses. "Sherlock…you're scaring me."

He steps towards me, gently stroking my cheek. "I don't want to. Believe me, the last thing I want to do is scare you. Know this, that when we're under code Reichenbach, that whatever I do, I do it for you. Can you believe me?"

I bite my lip and turn away from him, rubbing my arms. I exhale deeply and look upwards. "I do. It just…drives me crazy not knowing."

He wraps his arms around my waist. "I'm sorry." He presses a kiss in the hollow of my neck. "I will hurt you and betray your love," I jump and he tightens his grip on me. "but in my heart, I will be ever faithful to you."

"You're not making sense to me Sherlock."

"I know." He continues placing open mouth kisses on my neck. "I feel like I've burnt a castle down without making sure the princess is safely away. You're going to hate me, and I hope that you can forgive me."

I tsk my tongue and roll my eyes. "That's the problem with me Sherlock." I turn around and face him. "I always forgive you, no matter what you do. But….I thank you, for being honest with me. When you're honest with me…I can trust you"

Sherlock's eyes study my face, probing me deeply. "You've got a large heart Tammy. You're too sweet, loving and forgiving for your own good. I don't deserve your devotion."

My eyes water. "Sherlock, you're going to make me cry."

"If I haven't made you cry, then you must be used to my abuse."

I shake my head. "You don't abuse me Sherlock."

"Not in the normal ways. I abuse you verbally and mentally, and I do that to you constantly."

"No."

"You're just so used to it that you can't see it for what it is."

"Sherlock," I ask. "what happened tonight? What did I miss out on?"

"Nothing."

"Something must have happened for you to be talking to me like this."

"Nothing happened; I just…had my eyes opened."

"Please, you don't verbally abuse me. Honest, most of the time, it comes across as funny. Very, rarely do you say something that really, really hurts me." He shakes his head in disagreement. "Sherlock, I asked you to identify the color of my underwear when we first met. If you hurt me, I'd let you know!"

"I hurt you with my fake suicide."

"I forgave you."

"I never asked you to forgive me."

"But you know I did."

"Sometimes, asking is a good thing." He exhales deeply and gets down on his knees. I stare down at him in astonishment as he places his hands on my waist. "Tammy, will you forgive me for all the pain I put you through? Can you forgive me for all those nights you cried and I wasn't there? Can you forgive me for not being there for Sherlock and Linda when they were born?" His voice breaks and tears flow down my cheeks as Sherlock pours out his heart to me. "Can you forgive me for just crashing back into your life and denying you all chances of happiness that you could have had? Can you forgive me for selfishly wanting you for myself, even though I place you and the children in danger? And now, I'm going ask you that you can try to forgive me for all the things that I am going to do."

By now the tears are streaming down my cheeks and I get down on my knees. "Yes Sherlock." Something, like peace enters his eyes at my words. "Yes, I can. I'm not sure…what you're going to ask me to forgive but….I shall honestly try."

Sherlock pulled me into his arms, kissing my head as he rocks me in his arms. "I love you so much."

I inhale. "You really are going to do something that I won't like."

His hands stiffen on my back. "How can you tell?"

"You keep saying you love me."

"Well I do love you."

"You don't say it unless you're really, really happy with me. Or you're saying it to reassure me."

"You won't like it Tammy." He says hoarsely. "But it's something I _must _do."

I nod. "I believe you. So…when does code Reichenbach start?"

He exhales. "Tomorrow."

"That soon?" I shiver as I hold onto him tightly. "And how long will you be gone?"

"A few months."

I pull away and run my knuckles down his chin. "Then you better take me to bed then….Mr. Holmes."

He shakes his head. "No, you've had a very traumatic evening."

"I'm fine." I wrap my arm around his neck and lower myself onto the ground, pulling him down on top of me.

He shakes his head. "I don't think this a good idea." I arch my hips and he blinks. "Tammy, no."

"Come on." I bet him. "Please, give me something to keep me warm all the nights I won't have you nearby."

He kisses me as he pulls me up from the ground. "I will…Mrs. Holmes." He pulls me into his arms bridal style. "I shall be very careful with you."

"You don't need to be careful with me Sherlock. I trust you explicitly."


	32. 32: Sherlock's return

Chapter thirty-two

Sherlock's return

* * *

_One month later,_

* * *

It was 8:300 in the morning when my phone rang. I yawned and answered sleepily. I typically didn't answer my phone in bed, but I was so tired that I'd accidentally fallen asleep again. "Hello?"

_Tammy?_

"John?"

_Yes, I need you to come down to Bart's._

I frown. "What's wrong, is it Mary?"

_No, it's Sherlock._

I bolt up right. "Sherlock? John, is he hurt?"

_No, he's not hurt._

_John, give me the phone! _I can hear Sherlock shouting in the background. _You're going to freak her out!_

_No I won't!_ John states emphatically. _Until, I tell her what you've been up to!_

_Suppose I tell Mary what you've been up to! Now give me that phone!_

"What's going on?" there's a brief struggle and I hear Sherlock, Mary and John shouting. "Hello?"

_Tammy? _Sherlock has the phone now, and I can hear John complaining about Sherlock stealing his phone.

"Sherlock? Are you all right? What's going on?"

_Nothing. John's overreacting again._

_I am not!_

_Shut up John. Now, promise me that you won't listen to anymore from John until you get here._

"Why?"

_Because, I don't want you upset on your ride down here. It's not good for the baby. _I roll my eyes. _Don't do that._

"Don't do what?"

_Roll your eyes at me._

I groan. "I hate you."

_Yeah, I know, I hate you too. Especially when you don't mean it._

I laugh. "Fine! I love you. I'll see you down at Bart's!"

_And don't bring the children!_

"I won't. Mrs. Hudson's watching them."

Sherlock is silent for a moment. _You're still in bed aren't you?_

"Your fault." I remind him. "I'm pregnant, remember?"

_Well actually, considering your sexual activity—_

I hang up on him and shake my head. "No, I'm not talking to you when you say things like that." I stand up and begin routing through my closet for a dress to wear. I finally settle on my tan, military style dress. Unlike most women, I love flaunting my stomach. I picked this dress because it was easy to get into; it had a zipper on the front. I grab a pair of sensible sandals and then hurry down to Mrs. Hudson's flat.

She's teaching the children their alphabet; she looks up from the table. "Hello Tammy, did you sleep well?"

I nod. "Yes I'm sorry about that."

She shook her head. "No bother, I love this and you know it."

Linda and Sherlock run up to me. "Morning!" They chime out in almost perfect unison.

I hug them. "Good morning. Mommy's got to go for a while."

"No!" Sherlock cries out. "Don't go."

I laugh. "I have to. Daddy's here and I need to go see him."

Their faces light up. "Daddy's home?" Linda asks. "Daddy?"

I nod. "Yes. I have to go get him."

"Tell him hurry!"

Sherlock gives me a push. "Go! Go get daddy!"

I am informed the moment I enter Bart's, by Charles that John is down in the lab with a group of dirty people. He would have escorted me down, except he had a patient show up. I move, or rather waddle, happily down the way to the labs. I open the door just in time to see Molly slap Sherlock hard with her hand. Everyone can only stare at her in surprise. Molly then slaps him again! I myself can only stare at her in shock.

"How dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with?" Molly glances briefly towards John. "And how dare you betray the love of your friends? Say you're sorry."

Sherlock rubs his jaw. "Sorry your engagement's over, though I'm fairly grateful for the lack of a ring."

"Stop it." Molly demands angrily. "Just stop it."

It's at that moment that I find my voice. "And what gives _you _the right to slap my husband?!" Everyone turns towards me. Sherlock smiles innocently at me and my guard goes up; I know that look and it means that he's done something. "If anyone's going to slap him, it's going to be me."

Sherlock's eyes travel up and down the length of my body. "You look lovely this morning."

I walk up to him and wrinkle my nose. "Oh, you look terrible!"

"Nice to see you too." Sherlock says as he places a semi-dirty hand on my stomach. His clothes are about two sizes too big for him and there's this weird smell hanging about him. "Both of you." He smiles at me. "You've gotten a little bigger since I've seen you last."

"Sherlock!"

"And it's most becoming." He says as he pulls me into a hug. "You should be pregnant all the time." I flush brightly. "Your eyes are glowing, you look simply adorable and you're sweeter than an entire candy store."

I roll my eyes as I wrap my arms around his waist. "Don't you even bother sweet talking me. It won't work."

"It always does."

I struggle to keep a stern face. "Not today it won't."

"Yes it will," he states matter-of-factly as he runs his hands up and down my back. "because you've missed me."

I shake my head. "Stop distracting me and tell me what happened," I pull back and examine his face. "what did you do?"

"Well, before you fly off the handle-

"So you _did _do something that's going to make me mad at you?"

"Several things," he shifts uncomfortably. "but since I haven't seen you in a month, would you mind it terribly if I kissed you before all Hell breaks loose?"

"I certainly would," he tilts his head to the side and studies my face carefully. "but why don't you go ahead and do it any way?"

Sherlock smiles as he leans forward and kisses me on the mouth. I smile as his beginnings of a beard scratch my chin. It starts off as one kiss then it quickly becomes five kisses and would have become more if I hadn't pulled away. I shake my head. "We're in public Sherlock." He lets out a groan and kisses me once more. I flush and turn away as his lips tickle my jawbone. "I mean it."

He places his hand in the small of my back. He whispers closer. "You look so beautiful and I've missed you so very, very much."

John speaks his face stern and his voice low. "If you were anywhere near this kind of thing again, you could have called. If you couldn't talk to Tammy, then you could have talked to me."

"Please do relax." Sherlock says to John. "This is all for a case."

"What's all for a case that's got John in such a mood?" I ask. "And John, can you tell me?"

John groans. "He's been doing drugs again. Illegal ones."

My face freezes and I pause where I am. I turn towards Sherlock and study him. "Really?" He nods. I bite my lip, unsure of what to say. I'm shocked, surprised, but at the same time irrationally calm. After all, _he did _warn me that he was going to be doing things that I wouldn't approve of. I look at Sherlock, then at John, then back at Sherlock. Then, I say the only thing I'm able to say. "Oh."

John lets out an exasperated laugh. "I'm surprised you're taking this so calmly!"

"Who says I'm taking it calmly?" I ask. "Who says I'm calm at all?"

Sherlock adds for good measure. "She's actually pretty upset but isn't sure what to do with the conflicting emotions inside her."

I glare at him. "I would be sorely tempted to smack you if Molly hadn't denied me the pleasure. But," I point out. "you did give me an advanced warning, so I can't really get mad at you can I?"

Sherlock gives John a satisfying smirk. John groans. "I can't believe this! Tammy!"

"My life John, not yours. If Sherlock hadn't warned me that this was all for a case I wouldn't have let him lay a hand on me for a month!"

"Considering you're pregnant and your hormones are out of control," Sherlock comments. "it's highly unlikely that you're going to refuse any of my advances. Judging by your choice of outfit, granting me easy access, you can't wait for us to get home."

I splutter in embarrassment, as John demands. "What kind of case would need you doing this?"

Sherlock glances at John. "I might as well ask you why you've started cycling to work."

John begins shaking his head. "No. We're not playing this game."

"Quite recently, I'd say. You're very determined about it."

"Not interested."

"I am." I notice this scraggly, half-dead/asleep young man. "Ow."

"Oh, sorry." Mary says, from where she's binding his wrist. "You moved, but it is just a sprain."

"Yeah. Somebody hit me." He looks at John. "Just some guy.

"Yeah," John says. "probably just an addict in need of a fix."

Sherlock looks pointedly at John. "Yes. I think, in a way, it was."

"Is it his shirt?" the man asks, his words slightly slurred.

Sherlock addresses him. "I'm sorry?"

"Well, it's the creases, ain't it?" All eyes go to poor John and his shirt. "The two creases down the front. It's been recently folded but it's not new." Sherlock smiles slightly. "Must have dressed in a hurry this morning, so all your shirts must be kept like that." John and I stare at the man in confusion. "But why? Maybe because you cycle to work every morning, shower when you get there and then dress in the clothes you brought with you." Sherlock is clearly impressed. "You keep your shirts folded ...ready to pack."

"Not bad." Sherlock comments.

"And I further deduce…you've only started recently, because you've got a bit of chafing."

John looks down his body self-consciously. "No, no," Sherlock says. "he's always walked like that."

"Great!" I say what's on everybody's minds. "Now, there's two Sherlock Holmes walking around the face of this earth.

The guy then turns his gaze on me and I shift uncomfortably. "You're Mrs. Holmes. I deduce that-

"No, you don't." Sherlock says quickly. "No one deduces her except me. Remind me, what's your name again?"

"They call me 'The Wig'."

"No, they don't." Sherlock says quickly

The guy shifts awkwardly. "Well, they call me Wiggy."

"Nope."

He hesitates and then looks down. "Bill. Bill Wiggins."

"Nice observational skills, Billy." His phone sounds a text alert. He takes out the phone and looks at the message. "Ah! Finally."

"Finally what?" Molly asks.

Billy eyes Sherlock. "Good news?"

"Oh, excellent news, the best!" He says happily as he turns and heads for the door, working on his phone. "There's every chance that my drug habit might hit the newspapers. The game is on!"

"Oh no." I moan as I follow after him. "Do I have to sue somebody again?"

"Nope." He raises his phone to his ear as he reaches the door; he turns and looks around. "Excuse me for a second." He gives me a pointed glare. "You, stay here!"

He leaves the room and I mutter. "Where do you think I can go?"

John shakes his head. "You shouldn't let him get away with things like that."

I exhale. "He's Sherlock Holmes. He can get away with _anything_!"


	33. 33: Short sighted

Chapter thirty-three

Short sighted

Later, Sherlock, John and I are scrunched in the back of a taxi. "You've heard of Charles Augustus Magnussen," Sherlock states. "of course."

"Yeah. Owns some newspapers," John says. "ones I don't read."

"Tammy doesn't read newspapers, so she doesn't know." Sherlock frowns, looks round the cab and then out of the back window. "Hang on, weren't there other people?"

"Mary's taking the boys home; I'm taking you." John explains. "We did discuss it."

Sherlock looks upward, trying to remember. "People were talking, none of them me. I must have filtered."

"I noticed."

"I have to filter out a lot of witless babble." He says. "I've got Mrs. Hudson on semi-permanent mute."

"What do you have me on?" I ask.

Sherlock's eyes open and he looks at me in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

I exhale heavily. "We just happened to flag down the same taxi."

He groans. "This is not…happening." Eventually the taxi arrives outside 221B Baker Street. Sherlock lets out an exasperated sigh upon exiting the taxi. "What is my brother doing here?"

He gets out and heads for the front door. John calls after him. "So, I'll just pay, then, shall I?"

Sherlock goes up onto the doorstep and glares at the doorknocker. "He's straightened the knocker." He turns to John as John helps me get out of the cab. "He always corrects it. He's OCD. Doesn't even know he's doing it."

He pushes the doorknocker to one side, then lets himself in. "Why'd you do that?" John asks.

Sherlock frowns. "Do what?"

I shoot John a warning and John catches it. "Nothing."

Sherlock opens the door, stops and then rolls his eyes at the sight of Mycroft sitting on the stairs. "Well, then, Sherlock. Back on the sauce?" I come up behind Sherlock and Mycroft studies me. "Oh God, not again Tammy. I thought you'd be tired of being pregnant. I guess Sherlock didn't give you much time to rest up after you two remarried."

"Shut up." I snap. "Shut up _now_."

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock demands.

"I phoned him." John says from behind us.

"Brilliant John." I comment sarcastically.

"The siren call of old habits. How very like Uncle Rudy, though, in many ways, cross-dressing would have been a wiser path for you."

"Shut up Mycroft." I snap at him.

Sherlock crosses his arms and addresses john without looking at him. "You phoned him."

John exhales. "Of course I bloody phoned him."

"Of course he bloody did. Now, save me a little time. Where should we be looking?"

"We?" Sherlock asks.

"Mr. Holmes?"

At the sound of Andersen's voice calling down from the flat above, Sherlock shouts furiously. "For God's sake!"

He storms up the stairs, Mycroft slides sideways to get out of his way. Mycroft and John exchange a look before John exhales deeply. I move after Sherlock. "Great! Now I've got to go calm him down before he hits Andersen!" I kick Mycroft in the hip for good measure. "Get out of my way!"

"Tammy!" John calls after me. "Stairs!"

I follow Sherlock into the kitchen. He glares at Andersen who is with Benji. I don't know what was in her parent's head, but maybe they wanted a dog and got her instead.

Sherlock angrily snaps. "Andersen."

Andersen raises his gloved hands apologetically. "I'm sorry, Sherlock. It's for your own good."

Sherlock drops his keys onto the kitchen table while Benji stares at him. "Oh, that's him, isn't it?" Sherlock turns and storms towards his chair, to see another man is occupying it. Needless to say, Sherlock's dark glare causes the man scrambles out of his chair. Sherlock flips his hood up over his head as he climbs into the chair. "You said he'd be taller."

"He is tall." I glower at her as I approach Sherlock. "You're just a little _short _sighted."

Mycroft enters the kitchen and looks towards Sherlock. "Some members of your little fan-club. Do be polite. They're entirely trustworthy, and even willing to search through the toxic waste dump that you are pleased to call a flat." Sherlock has rested his head on one of the chair arms, curled up in a semi-fetal position and he closes his eyes. I lean forward and rub his forehead gently. He bumps his forehead into my palm, telling me that he likes that. "You're a celebrity these days, Sherlock. You can't afford a drug habit."

Sherlock snaps in irritation. "I do not have a drug habit."

John completely changes the subject. "Hey," he points to his empty seat. "what happened to my chair?"

"It was blocking my view to the kitchen."

John turns to Mycroft. "Well, it's good to be missed!"

"Well, you were gone." Sherlock says drearily. "I saw an opportunity."

"No," John remarks smartly. "you saw the kitchen."

I frown. "Then…if you moved the chair…you must have been here." Sherlock doesn't move. "Why would you be here and not tell me?"

Mycroft turns to Anderson. "What have you found so far? Clearly nothing."

"There's nothing to find." Sherlock insists.

"Your bedroom door is shut." Mycroft observes as he begins slowly walking along the hallway. "You haven't been home all night. So, why would a man who has never knowingly closed the door without the direct orders of his mother bother to do so on this occasion?"

Sherlock's head comes up and he flips his hood back while Mycroft reaches for the doorknob. Sherlock bolts up into a sitting position. "Okay, stop! Just stop." Mycroft turns the knob but doesn't open the door. "Point made."

"Jesus," John swears. "Sherlock."

Mycroft turns and walks slowly back along the hall. "Have to phone our parents, of course, in Oklahoma." Sherlock looks down and I begin to rub his shoulders. "Won't be the first time that your substance abuse has wreaked havoc with their line-dancing."

"Stop it Mycroft." I warn him. "It's his room. He says he _doesn't _have a drug habit."

Mycroft smirks. "Dear, innocent, blind, trusting Tammy."

"I _always _trust him." I bite out. "He's rarely given me a reason not to trust him."

Sherlock stands up and walks closer to Mycroft. "This is not what you think. This is for a case."

"What case could possibly justify this?" he glances at me. "Tammy is going to be asking for a divorce once this one's over."

My head shoots up at those words. "What?!"

"She trusts you explicitly and you betray her. You lie to her!"

I stamp my foot. "How dare you-

"Magnussen." Mycroft's smirk slips off his face as Sherlock speaks. "Charles Augustus Magnussen."

Mycroft turns to Anderson and Benji. "That name you think you may have just heard, you were mistaken. If you ever mention hearing that name in this room, in this context, I guarantee you, on behalf of the British security services, that materials will be found on your computer hard drives resulting in your immediate incarceration. Don't reply, just look frightened and scuttle". Andersen and Benji immediately hurry out of the flat. Mycroft turns back to John. "I hope I won't have to threaten you as well."

"Well, I think we'd both find that embarrassing."

Sherlock snorts as Mycroft turns to me. "And you Tammy, you will-

"Oh, shut up Mycroft!" I snap at him. "Don't be idiotic! Who am I going to go blabbing to about Magnussen? I'm a stay at home housewife, remember? Besides, I have control over _you_, not _you_ over _me_! Your parents have two grandchildren and a third on the way. Who are they going to listen to? You, or me?" he glowers at me and I know I've won. "I got you put on suspension once, I can do it again!"

Sherlock laughs. "You suspended _Mycroft_? I never heard of this. When was this?"

"Oh, I told his parents about how he'd turned you in to Moriarty. Your father is still a good friend with his superior. He was suspended for revealing important information resulting in death."

"When in actuality, he wasn't dead." He turns and speaks sternly to Sherlock. "Magnussen is not your business."

Sherlock turns and points at Mycroft. "Oh, you mean he's yours?

"You may consider him under my protection."

"I consider you under his thumb."

Mycroft speaks ominously, threatening Sherlock. "If you go against Magnussen, then you will find yourself going against me."

Sherlock shrugs nonchalantly. "Okay. I'll let you know if I notice." He strolls towards the kitchen door. "What was I going to say? Oh, yeah." He opens the door and points outside. "Bye-bye."

Mycroft walks towards him, and then turns to face him. "Unwise, brother mine."

Sherlock seizes Mycroft's left arm and twists it behind his back. Sherlock then slams his brother face-first into the wall beside the kitchen door. Mycroft cries out in pain. John and I both hasten over to the two brothers.

Sherlock is breathing rapidly and his voice is venomous. "Brother mine, don't appall me when I'm high."

"Sherlock," I say firmly and patiently. "let Mycroft go…now."

John hurries over to Mycroft's side. His tone is soft and firm as he watches Sherlock's face. "Mycroft, don't say another word. Just go. He could snap you in two, and right now I am slightly worried that he might." Mycroft pulls himself free of Sherlock's grip and holds his left arm in pain. Sherlock turns and walks away and I follow after him.

Mycroft turns towards John, who cuts him off. "Don't speak, just leave."

Sherlock is stretching and rubbing the back of his neck. I reach out and rub his shoulders. He whips around, his eyes wide, and his hands are prepared to strike. He relaxes and drops his hands when he sees that it's me touching him and not Mycroft. "You need to relax Sherlock." He lets out a grunt when I loosen a particularly tight spot on his shoulders.

Sherlock turns to John and asks. "What time is it?"

"About eight."

Sherlock sniffs deeply and sighs out a disgusted breath. "I'm meeting him in three hours. I need a bath."

He walks towards the bathroom. John calls after him. "It's for a case, you said?"

"Yep."

"What sort of case?"

"Too big and dangerous for any sane individual to get involved in."

"You trying to put me off?" John asks.

Sherlock shakes his head. "God, no." He places his hand on the bathroom door; he looks back at John. "Trying to recruit you." He then goes into the bathroom. "And stay out of my bedroom. That goes for you too Tammy." He sticks his head out of the bathroom door. "Tammy, go upstairs, play with the kids and whatever. I'll come up as soon as possible."


	34. 34: Betrayed

Chapter thirty-four

Betrayed

Almost forty minutes have passed, and I still haven't seen Sherlock. Sherlock Jr. is impatiently pacing back and forth, waiting for his father to turn up. Linda is sitting at her little pink table, coloring, impatiently glancing up and around, waiting for her father to make an appearance.

"Where's Daddy?" Sherlock whines for the 50th time.

I exhale. "He's coming soon." He suddenly bolts for the door, flings it open and runs down. "Sherlock!" I call. "You come back here now!"

He ignores me and I am forced to hurry after him. I catch him halfway down the stairs just as Sherlock opens the door to his flat. "Have a lovely day." His tone is a little flirtatious, so I pause, frowning. "Call me later."

"I might do." At the sound of Janine's voice, my heart stops. "I might call you," her tone is coy, flirtatious and teasing as well. "unless I meet someone prettier."

That's when I hear them kiss. It was as if someone had ripped my heart out and showed it to me.

"For God's sake!" John bursts out from inside the room. "Tammy is right upstairs!"

I stand there holding onto the banister and Sherlock's hand for dear life. The kiss is noisy, and my stomach churns violently. I'm unsure if I'm going to vomit or pass out first.

Janine pulls back a little, so I can see her smug little face. She whispers softly to Sherlock. "Solve me a crime, Sherlock Holmes."

He doesn't respond. Sherlock jr. says loudly. "Mommy?" Janine and Sherlock jump. They both whip around and stare at me, as I stand there frozen in shock. "Who's that?"

I can't answer. I release his hand to cover my mouth. I searched my brain for some focus point of control, but it was hard. I couldn't, wouldn't, loose control in front of my child.

Sherlock clears his throat. "Go upstairs Sherlock. Now."

Sherlock nods, but he looks up at me. His eyes grow wide with concern. "Mommy's hurt daddy." I bite back another cry. He said 'hurt' not 'sad' even he knew the depth of my pain.

I kneel down and hug him. "I'm…fine." My tone is shaky and I struggle to keep a grip on my emotions long enough for him to make his way upstairs. "Now," I paste on a smile. "go upstairs, and stay there? Ok?" he nods and I stand up. "Mommy needs to talk to daddy."

"Is daddy in trouble?"

I laugh tightly. "Yes."

"Get upstairs!" Sherlock snaps at him. Sherlock Jr. doesn't hesitate in running up the stairs.

I shoot him a dirty look. "There was _no need _for you to talk to him like that! He hasn't seen his father for a month and the first thing you do…is snap at him!" I then release a venomous look at Janine. "You…get out of here…now."

Janine wisely steps away from Sherlock; she shoots him a sympathetic, flirtatious smile. "She had to find out sooner or later."

She blows him a kiss and I explode. "You get out of here you whore!" Janine and Sherlock both do a double take as I stomp towards her. "I can't think of anything worse to call a bitch like you at the moment so you better get out of here before I do!" Sherlock grabs ahold of me before I can pull her hair out by its roots. "Oh!" I shout. "You let me go!"

"Tammy," Sherlock shouts at me. "calm down!"

"Let me go!"

"I'm not going to let you lay one finger on Janine," he turns and shoves me towards John. "so you might as well calm down!" He then addresses Janine. "Sorry, I'll have to deal with this issue."

John guides me to a chair. I'm shaking uncontrollably. "Now, Tammy, I need you to calm down. Breathe."

"How can _anyone _be calm in a moment like this!?" I shout. "I-I'm so flustered...I don't know what to do!"

"_You _could be calm in an instance like this." He said firmly. "Calm down."

"I'm an _issue_." I state. "I'm not even a person. I'm an _issue_."

"You know Magnussen as a newspaper owner," Sherlock states conversationally as he closes the door. "but he's so much more than that. He uses his power and wealth to gain information. The more he acquires, the greater his wealth and power." John and I stare at him in amazement. He's not really talking about Magnussen at a time like this? He sits down at the dining table and opens his laptop. "I'm not exaggerating when I say that he knows the critical pressure point on every person of note or influence in the whole of the Western world and probably beyond. He is the Napoleon of blackmail," He brings up a photograph and blueprint of the building. "and he has created an unassailable architecture of forbidden knowledge. Its name ...is Appledore."

John stares at him. "You're kidding."

Sherlock stares at him for a moment. "Seriously? I've just told you that the Western world is run from this house," he points at the screen. "and you want to know if I'm kidding?"

"Fine," John snaps. "talk about the house. Ignore the fact that your wife is here, in shock, devastated that you're cheating on her!"

Sherlock throws him a sour look, and then turns back to his laptop. "It is the greatest repository of sensitive and dangerous information anywhere in the world ... the Alexandrian Library of secrets and scandals, and none of it is on a computer." I stare at him, slowly, I begin to loose all control. "He's smart – computers can be hacked. It's all on hard copy in vaults underneath that house; and as long as it is, the personal freedom of anyone you've ever met is a fantasy."

"I don't care about all that!" I scream. "I want to know…what's going to happen to us! Are we getting divorced!?"

He glances at me like I'm an idiot. "Of course not!"

"Why the hell not?!"

"Calm down!" he shouts at me. "It's not good for the baby!"

"A lot you care!" I scream at him. "How could you?! How could you cheat on me?"

Sherlock is livid. "May I remind that I warned you that I'd do things that would upset you?"

"Upset me!? Oh, God Sherlock! That is the understatement of the year!" I begin coughing violently and spots swim before my eyes. "How…could you…do this to me?"

"Tammy," John says firmly as he kneels down in front of me. "I need you to calm down. Breathe. Breathe!" Sherlock hands me my inhaler, but I refuse to take it. John hands it to me. "Here." I inhale deeply. "Now, you need to calm down. I know, you're upset, I'm upset too. But as we did before, think of the baby, concentrate on the baby."

"What did…you do with her?" I demand as calmly as I can. "I want to know."

"No you don't."

"Yes! I do!"

Sherlock crossed his arms behind his back. "Everything?"

"Yes!"

"Fine." He exhales and begins spouting. "We'd have dinner, she'd sleep over." I throw my hands up in aggravation. "Kiss, touch, have a shower together, you know, stuff like that. But no sex."

I close my eyes tightly, drowning in pain. "And…I'm supposed to believe that this…all…has to do with a case?"

He nods. "Yes! She means nothing to me Tammy."

I jump up. "You do all that with her while _married to me _and I'm supposed to believe that she meant nothing!" I shake my head. "And this was all for a case? You'd throw our marriage away…for a case!?"

"I haven't thrown it away." He stated. "I love you; I'm still in love with you. But I had to do this to protect you, our children and our marriage."

I shake my head and walk away. "I can't believe this." I spin around and point at him. "I can't believe that I defend you, your actions to Mycroft and this comes out! Why is it every time…I go to bat for you…you always let me down? Always! Always!" Sherlock approaches me. "Why!?" he reaches for me and I swat at his hands. "Do you have _any idea _how you've messed my life up!? There is only so much that a heart can take!" I begin pounding him on the chest. "Why did we even have to meet?" Sherlock grabs ahold of my wrists and I try to pull free. "How much more mental abuse do I have to take? Why? Why! I now have two children, a third on the way, and you know damn well that you don't ever grant my mind a moment's peace!"

"Because you were born to love me." He said darkly.

I am able to break one arm free and I hit him, hard, upside the head with my wrist. Sherlock lets out a yell before capturing my wrists in his. There's a knock on the living room door. Our heads whip over to observe Mrs. Hudson walking in. she's a little nervous. "Oh, that was the doorbell. Couldn't you hear it?"

Sherlock bites out. "It's in the fridge. It kept ringing."

"Oh, that's not a fault, Sherlock!"

"He _always _finds fault with anything and anyone except himself!" I spit out.

"Who is it?" John asks, hoping that whoever it is will break up the domestic Sherlock and I am having.

Mrs. Hudson draws in an anxious breath. "I'm not sure. There's four men," Sherlock's grip on my wrists loosens slightly. "They're not very nice looking characters."

Sherlock speaks one word and when he does, my blood runs cold. "Magnussen." He glances at me. "You don't mind putting this on hold for a moment do you?"

I glare at him. "No. why should I? Nothing happening in this room is of major importance anyway!"


	35. 35: Meeting Magnussen

Chapter thirty-five

Meeting Magnussen

Sherlock nudges me towards the fireplace and I elbow him. "Don't…touch me." I spit at him.

He wisely doesn't touch me again. I place both my hands protectively over my stomach as three men, clearly in the line of security, walk into the living room.

Sherlock sighs and speaks wearily. "Oh, go ahead."

He spread out his arms and allows one of the guards to frisk him. Another one walks over to John while the third approaches me.

"Sir?" the man is addressing John.

John glances over to Sherlock, and then looks back to the man. "Can I have a moment?"

Sherlock lowers his arms from his frisking and looks across to the man. "Oh, he's fine."

The man kneels down in front of John and starts frisking him anyway. The other man moves towards me, I take a step back. "You _will _keep your hands off me. I'm unarmed"

"Er, I... right." John stammers. "I should probably tell you," the man reaches into John's jacket pocket and takes out a flick-knife. My mouth drops open in surprise. "okay, I, that, and." The man stands up, holding a tire lever he has just taken from John's jeans. Sherlock looks startled as well. John shrugs. "Doesn't mean I'm not pleased to see you."

"I can vouch for this man." Sherlock says. "He's a doctor. If you know who I am, then you know who he is."

The third guard touches my arm and I whip around, striking his cheek. "_I said_, keep your hands off me!"

His eyes blaze and he moves for me. Sherlock quickly steps in front of me, shielding me from the man. "She's pregnant; her hormones are a little off-set. She's my wife," he turns his head towards the door as someone, who I assume is Magnussen walks in. Sherlock glowers at him. "but you know that….don't you, Mr. Magnussen?" The security men step aside. I shift aside so I can get a clearer look at the man so I don't have to peer over Sherlock's shoulder. "I understood we were meeting at your office."

Magnussen looks around the room for a moment. "This is my office." He walks slowly towards the sofa, then stops and turns to look at John. "Well, it is now." He looks me up and down. "And this…is your wife. Possibly soon to be ex-wife, judging by the tears in her eyes and the bruise on your neck. Not that I blame her, very nasty of you. Cheating on her while she's pregnant with your baby." He continues on to the dining table, picks up a newspaper from it and then sits down on the sofa. He glances up at me. "Feel free to sit."

I shake my head. "I prefer to stand."

"Suit yourself."

Sherlock interrupts him. "Mr. Magnussen, I have been asked to intercede with you by Lady Elizabeth Smallwood on the matter of her husband's letters." Magnussen appears to be ignoring him as he looks at the newspaper in his hand. "Some time ago you ... put pressure on her concerning those letters." Magnussen now looks up at him as he leans back on the sofa. "She would like those letters back. Obviously the letters no longer have any practical use to you, so with that in mind," he breaks off, perhaps noticing something about Magnussen. Magnussen lets out a quiet snort, exasperating Sherlock. "Something I said?"

"No, no. I-I was reading." I frown as he continues studying Sherlock. "There's rather a lot." Sherlock frowns. "Redbeard." Sherlock blinks and his mouth opens slightly. My own eyes bulge slightly. How does _he _know about Redbeard? Magnussen shakes his head. "Sorry, so sorry. You were probably talking?"

"I," Sherlock pauses for a long moment, before clearing his throat. "I was trying to explain that I've been asked to act on behalf of-

Magnussen turns his head to the security man beside John. "Bathroom?"

The man nods to his right. "Along from the kitchen, sir."

"Okay." Magnussen says.

Sherlock is getting impatient, I can tell as his tone becomes more firm. "I've been asked to negotiate the return of those letters." Magnussen takes off his glasses and looks towards the window. "I'm aware you do not make copies of sensitive documents-

Magnussen gestures around the living room. "Is it like the rest of the flat?"

The security man sounds slightly confused. "Sir?"

"The bathroom?"

He stutters slightly. "Er, yes, sir."

"Maybe not, then."

Sherlock speaks, again, asking for Magnussen to pay attention. I don't like Magnussen. He's cold, colder than Mycroft. "Am I acceptable to you as an intermediary?"

Magnussen finally makes eye contact with Sherlock. "Lady Elizabeth Smallwood. I like her."

Sherlock repeats his request. "Mr. Magnussen, am I acceptable to you as an intermediary?"

"She's English, with a spine."

He then pushes the coffee table away from him with his foot. Sherlock frowns slightly as Magnussen stands up. One of the security men turns towards the fireplace and moves the fire screen away from the unlit fire. Sherlock glances over his shoulder.

"Best thing about the English," Magnussen walks between Sherlock and me, heading towards the fireplace. "you're so domesticated. All standing around, apologizing, keeping your little heads down." The sound of him unzipping his trousers causes me to jump. Sherlock grabs my hand and I look up at him. He gives me a subtle shake of the head before facing the wall. "You can do what you like here. No one's ever going to stop you."

That's when I hear him urinating into the fireplace. My mouth drops open in complete shock and horror. "Oh God." I exhale and keep my face fixated on the opposite wall. This man…is _disgusting _beyond all belief. John is shocked and appalled as well. Sherlock keeps his gaze trained on the opposite wall.

"A nation of herbivores. I've interests all over the world but, er, everything starts in England. If it works here," he then zips up his trousers. "I'll try it in a real country." I inhale and exhale to keep from exploding in anger. Magnussen then turns and strolls back in between us. I take a step towards Sherlock, not wanting to be near that disgusting man. The security guard then holds out a package of wet wipes and Magnussen takes one. "The United Kingdom, huh?" He wipes his fingers. "Petri dish to the Western world." He looks at Sherlock. "Tell Lady Elizabeth I might need those letters, so I'm keeping them." He drops the wet wipe to the floor. "Goodbye." He turns as if to leave, then puts his hand into his jacket's inside breast pocket. "Anyway," he shows Sherlock the letters in question. "they're funny."

Smirking, he tucks the letters back into his jacket and leaves the room. The security men follow him. As the sound of their feet can be heard clattering down the stairs, John takes a step forward. "Jesus!"

I shudder. "That man…no, that _thing _is disgusting!"

Sherlock isn't paying any attention to us. "Did you notice the one extraordinary thing he did?"

"There was a moment that kind of stuck in the mind," John says in exasperation. "yeah."

Sherlock smiles broadly, not noticing anything going on around him. "Exactly, when he showed us the letters."

John closes his eyes in disbelief. "Okay."

"So he's brought the letters to London – so no matter what he says, he's ready to make a deal. Now, Magnussen only makes a deal once he's established a person's weaknesses, the 'pressure point', he calls it. So, clearly he believes I'm a drug addict, an unfaithful husband and no serious threat." He looks out of the window before turning back and gesturing enthusiastically. "And, of course, because he's in town tonight, the letters will be in his safe in his London office while he's out to dinner with the Marketing Group of Great Britain from seven 'til ten."

"How," John stares at him. "how do you know his schedule?"

"Because I do. Right, I'll see you tonight." He opens the door and gestures that John leave us alone.

John frowns. "What's tonight?"

"I'll text instructions."

"Yeah," John heads towards the door. "I'll text you if I'm available."

"You are! I checked!" John groans in exasperation. "Don't bring a gun."

John stares at him in surprise. "Why would I bring a gun?"

"Or a knife, or a tire lever. Probably best not to do any arm-spraining, but we'll see how the night goes."

John pauses in the doorway. "You're just assuming I'm coming along?"

"Time you got out of the house, John. You've put on seven pounds since you got married, and the cycling isn't doing it."

John glares at him. "It's actually four pounds."

Sherlock shrugs. "Mary and I think seven. See you later."

John turns to me and gives me a sympathetic look. "Take care Tammy, try to stay calm."

I nod sullenly. "I'll try John. I can't promise anything." I then turn towards the kitchen to heat some water. The door closes and an uncomfortable silence fills the room.


	36. 36: Shattered trust

Chapter thirty-six

Shattered Trust

_You caught me fooling around, with somebody new. _Those lyrics land like a trumpet on my ear. I grit my teeth to keep from freaking out. _You caught me fooling around, now I'm losing you. 'Cause you're a one-man woman. You're a one-man woman. You're a one-man woman, but I'm a two timing man._

"Will you turn that off?" I shout at Sherlock. "Now!"

"Ok." He turns my MP3 player off. "That was the last track you were listening to. It's not my fault."

"No. Nothing ever is." I open up the cupboards and begin looking for the tea bags. They're not where they usually are.

Sherlock reads my mind. "Janine moved the tea and cocoa onto to the other side of microwave."

I growl out. "Thank you."

Sherlock watches as I snatch the pomegranate tea box and pull out a bag. "You're…drinking hot tea."

"So?" I pour the water over the tea bag.

"You don't drink your tea hot."

"To_ your_ knowledge, I don't." I snip at him.

"You don't like it."

"You haven't been around me for when I do drink hot tea. I'm in a bad mood, I'm upset, and I'm pregnant. I always drink tea when I'm in this condition. Especially when I'm pregnant. Hell of a time to be carrying your baby; saddled with the knowledge that you cheated on me."

"Tammy-

"Shut up, sit down, and I'll ask the questions!"

He exhales. "Ok." He follows me and makes a move to sit down beside me. I glower at him and point at his seat. He shuffles over to his seat and sits down. "All right, what do you want to know?"

"I'm talking, and you're answering." I take a sip out of my tea, burning my lips. "So…why'd you do it? Why?"

"I needed to make myself appear like I wasn't a threat towards Magnussen. And you must admit, the drug incident and the fact that I was cheating on you did add a splash of color to the picture. Incidentally, before I forget, I need your engagement ring."

I stare at him. "Why?"

"I'm going to propose to Janine tonight." My tea clatters to the ground and Sherlock moves to pick up the broken glass. "She's Magnussen's secretary."

"Trash is trash, they're always found together in the same bin." I groan. "And there was _no _other way to get into his office? Why do you have to get into his office?"

"I can't tell you."

"You can't tell me anything!"

He exhales. "We're still under code Reichenbach."

"Great!"

"You're going to have to trust me a little longer."

It's a wonder my eyes don't fall out of my head. "Trust you? Now why should I trust you? You go off and you have an affair with this…bitch!"

"That's twice you've used unsavory language, now knock it off now. It's very unattractive."

"Says the man who cheats on his wife and shouts at his children who haven't seen him for a month!" he blinks and I spit his vows at him. "You swore that you'd love me for always, seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, month, years and for all eternities hereafter. You will do all you can to maintain an open line of communication with me, even when it seems or feels that things are not getting better." My voice rises. "You said you wouldn't forsake me or the vows that we made again! And you did! You broke me again! God Sherlock, do you take delight in taking me up to the top of Mount Everest, throwing me off it's edge before dragging me up to the top and dropping me down again?"

Bile rises in my stomach and I race for the bathroom. I miss the toilet and vomit lands on my stomach, I groan as I kneel on the ground and lean over the toilet. Sherlock is beside me, bracing my back as I hurl violently into the toilet. Tears stream down my cheeks and there's an acid taste filling my mouth.

Once I finish, Sherlock presses a damp cloth onto my forehead. "Don't move." He orders gently.

"Shut up." I mutter as he gets up and leaves the bathroom.

Moments later, he returns with his shirt and robe. He reaches for the zipper on the front of my dress and pulls it down. I slap his hand away and clutch my dress to my chest. Sherlock exhales. "I'm helping you."

"I don't want your help." I sneer at him. "And I don't want you to touch me."

"Fine."

"Get out." I point towards the door. "Now!"

"Look Tammy, we are married-

"I don't care, that _doesn't _mean anything now. You touched, kissed, fondled and showered with Janine! I don't want you looking at me. Get out! Now!"

He sighs in defeat. "I'll be outside the door if you need me."

I glower at him. "Why would I need you?"

He turns towards me. "Because you love me."

"No." I shake my head. "No, I don't love you Sherlock." I get a fraction of satisfaction at the look of hurt in his eyes, but it didn't make me feel any better. "Not at this moment, I _do not _love you. How could I love a man who hurts me the way you do?"

Sherlock doesn't say anything. He just closes the door with a click. I strip out of my dress and push his shirt to the side. I'm too big now to fit into his shirts anymore. I get into the robe and immediately begin washing my vomit off my dress. I wring it out completely before depositing it into the laundry basket. I come out to find Sherlock cleaning up Magnessun's urine from the fire grate.

I frown at him. "I'll do that."

"I don't want you kneeling."

"And I don't want you cleaning." I throw his shirt on the kitchen table. "You always use it as an excuse to get around me."

"Not this time."

"Pardon me if I don't believe you."

"I don't expect you to believe me." He looks up from the grate. "I never outright lied to you Tammy."

"I can't come into contact with you, while you go on and have an affair with Janine!"

"It was a _role_," he stated. "nothing else."

He stands up, walks over to the sink and carefully strips off the cleaning gloves. He drops them in the sink and runs water over them. "Just throw them away. I'm not using them again."

"Do you want a divorce Tammy?" He asks, his tone is calm and even. I can't see his face, so I can't read him.

"I don't know. And if you want to know, ask me outright! I don't like talking to your back!"

He turns and studies me. "Do you still love me?"

"Stop asking me questions like that!" A spasm wracks my stomach and I let out a sharp gasp. I clutch my stomach and Sherlock is immediately by my side.

"Are you ok?"

"Don't touch me." He ignores me and lifts me up. "Put…me…down! Now!"

He moves towards the couch and sets me down on it. I notice that there's a new cup of pomegranate tea on the coffee table. Sherlock reaches for a blanket and tucks it around my legs. "Do I need to call John?" The concern in voice and eyes is definitely genuine. "Are you in pain?"

"No to both questions. It was just a spasm."

"Spasm." He bobs his head. "Right." He reaches for the tea and hands it to me. "Drink this."

I take it. "Stop being nice to me. You always do that when you want something from me. Sex, forgiveness, or anything."

"Drink." He says firmly. "It'll do you good." I obediently begin drinking the warm liquid. It sooths my stomach and warms me throughout. Sherlock exhales. "I'm a cruel, stupid, bastard."

"That's putting it lightly." I set the tea aside and clutch a pillow. "I can't believe you did this to me."

"I don't hurt you on purpose Tammy. I didn't want you to find out now."

"No, you'd just tell me later after the whole issue was over."

"I wanted to do it that way so I could present my reason for doing it. I can't tell you now, because it's not the right time."

"No." I thump the pillow. "I've been way too easy on you Sherlock. I've let you take me for granted for so long. That's what the whole issue is. I've just let you walk all over me! The _very _night I discover you're back, I let you sleep with me. I let you touch and kiss me! Five days later, you propose to me again. Then a month later, we get married! 35 days randomly make up for 720 days that you let me think you were dead? What is the matter with me? I've never mattered to you. I don't mean more to you than those cases." I pick up my tea again. "We need sometime apart."

"We had two years apart."

"You were dead, we weren't apart."

Sherlock frowns. "You can't leave me," I scowl at him. "not yet at least. It's not safe for you and the children."

"Again, why?"

"I can't tell you." Sherlock is silent for a long time. "Will you come with John and me tonight?"

I glower at him. "Why?"

"Because I need your help."

"You need my help?" I ask sarcastically. "The great Sherlock Holmes needs my help! How flattering."

"The sooner I have this case wrapped up, the sooner you can decide if you're going to kick me out of your life!"

"Fine!" I shake my head in defeat. "I'll help you Sherlock, but I won't forgive you Sherlock. I can't."

"I don't expect you to forgive me just yet. How can I, when I can't forgive myself?"

"Stop that!" I reach for my tea and take a huge gulp out of the teacup. "Go up and play with Linda and Sherlock. They're probably wondering what's going on."

"Tammy."

"I need to be _alone _for a while. Alone! Without you, or the children. I need to think and I need to think in peace!"

"All right Tammy." He stands up and walks to the door. "If it means anything, I still love you."

"No, you love to make me cry. If you had been a man, in reality, you wouldn't make me cry! I'm a doormat to you! You just walk all over me and I will not put up with this anymore! You can't even provide me with a reason why!"

"I can't tell you everything yet Tammy," he says softly. "but believe me, I do have a good reason."

I shake my head. "I can't believe that."

"Trust me Tammy. Hate me if you must, but trust me."

"How can I trust you, when you shattered my trust so completely?" I shake my head solemnly at him. "I don't trust you Sherlock. Believe me, a huge part of me wants to, but I will not allow myself to cave into your manipulative wishes this time."

"You always say that."

"I know." I shoot him a dark look. "Now, get out of here."

He nods. "Your wish is my command."

My teacup clatters in its saucer as he closes the door. I set them aside and settle down onto the couch for a nice long cry. I wanted my father, or mother. I even wished I had my brother to talk to! I needed someone, who wasn't under the influence of Sherlock Holmes to help wake me from this nightmare.


	37. 37: Human error

Chapter thirty-seven

Human error

John was surprised, to say the least, when I turned up with Sherlock. But it wasn't because I had to be there. It was because I wanted to be able to roam the streets freely without worrying that someone was going to go after the children. Sherlock had gotten us into this mess and I'd do anything, even work with him, so I could get away from his as soon as possible.

"Magnussen's office is on the top floor, just below his private flat." Sherlock points out. "But there are fourteen levels of security between us and him. Two of which aren't even legal in this country. Want to know how we're going to break in?"

John asks. "Is that what we're doing?"

"Of course it's what we're doing."

The boys stop in at the coffee shop to order a coffee real quickly. I roll my eyes while I wait for them. I look up as Sherlock presses a coffee into my hand. "Here."

"I don't drink-

"Cocoa?" He frowns.

I take it and look down. "It's in a coffee cup."

"It's still cocoa."

"Let's move along, shall we?" John asks. "Sherlock, might want to leave a foot of space between you and Tammy."

I nod and follow behind Sherlock as we continue walking. "Magnussen's private lift. It goes straight to his penthouse and office. Only he uses it," we get onto an escalator. "and only his key card calls the lift. Anyone else even tries, security is automatically informed." We get to the top and step off. I trip and fall forward. Sherlock spins around and catches me. "You're still doing that?"

"Doing what?" John asks.

"I tripped."

"Tammy always misjudges the last step on the escalator. She has a slight case of vertigo. Found that out on our date at the London Eye, she held onto me for the entire half-hour."

"Shut up." I push away from him. "We were going where?"

Sherlock walks towards the elevator, holding up a key card. "Standard key card for the building. Nicked it yesterday, only gets us as far as the canteen." He stops a few feet away from the elevator. "If I was to use this card on that lift now, what happens?"

"The alarms would go off and you'd be dragged away by security."

Sherlock nods. "Exactly."

John isn't through yet. "Get taken to a small room somewhere and your head kicked in."

I smirk as Sherlock glowers at him. "Do we really need so much color?"

"It passes the time."

"It was a good one though John." I glower at Sherlock. "Almost ideal."

Sherlock hands John his coffee cup before Sherlock takes his phone from his coat. "But if I do this," he presses the security card against his phone. "if you press a key card against your mobile phone for long enough, it corrupts the magnetic strip. The card stops working. It's a common problem, never put your key card with your phone. What happens if I use the card now?"

"It still doesn't work."

"But it doesn't read as the wrong card now." He points out. "It registers as corrupted. But if it's corrupted, how do they know it's not Magnussen? Would they risk dragging him off?"

John shakes his head. "Probably not."

"So what do they do? What do they have to do?"

"Check if it's him or not."

Sherlock nods. "There's a camera at eye height to the right of the door. A live picture of the card user is relayed directly to Magnussen's personal staff in his office, the only people trusted to make a positive ID. At this hour, almost certainly his PA."

"So how's that help us?"

Sherlock smiles. "Human error." He then walks towards the elevator; John looks around before following him while I keep sipping my cocoa. Sherlock reaches the lift doors and raises his card towards the reader. "Here we go, then." He presses the card against the reader.

John hisses. "You realize you don't exactly look like Magnussen."

Sherlock looks confidently into the security camera while speaking quietly. "Which, in this case, is a considerable advantage."

_Sherlock,_ Janine's voice is heard and I have to bite my lip. _you complete loon! What are you doing?!_

Sherlock smiles more widely into the camera. John looks round in surprise. "Hang on, was that-

Sherlock holds up the flat of his hand to stop him as he talks into the camera. "Hi, Janine." He glances around. "Go on, let me in."

_I can't! You know I can't. Don't be silly. Besides, what about your wife?_

Sherlock rolls his eyes. "It's over. She wants a divorce."

"Obviously." I mutter.

"I need you."

_I can't pop off yet._

"I mean it Janine, I need you." Sherlock turns on the charm, speaking softly. "Don't make me do it out here. Not ... in front of everyone.

_Do what in front of everyone?_

Sherlock lowers his eyes, exhales, reaches into his pocket, then takes out a small box. He clicks it open before holding it up to the camera to show Janine my engagement ring inside it. John stares at the ring in shock while Sherlock holds the box in front of his face and turns on his biggest puppy dog eyes. I can hear Janine choking back happy tears. The card reader screen turns from red to blue and the lift doors open.

Sherlock grins into the camera, then clicks the box closed and turns to John, whose mouth is open. "You see?" he points out. "As long as there's people, there's always a weak spot."

He gets into the elevator. John isn't catching any of this. "That was Janine."

"Yes, of course it was Janine. She's Magnussen's PA." Sherlock is exasperated. "That's the whole point."

"Did you really just break Tammy's heart and get engaged just to break into an office?"

"Yeah, I know it seems that way." He shifts a little uncomfortably. "Stroke of luck, meeting her at your wedding. You can take some of the credit."

"Jesus!" He puts the coffee cups down on the floor outside the lift before getting in. "Sherlock, you can't mess around with people like that. You let her believe that you loved her."

He states flatly as he stares ahead. "Yes, like I said, human error."

I glance at John. "Tell me about it."

The doors close and the elevator begins its ascent. It's a glass elevator, so I can see everything outside. My head begins to swim as I take in the sight of us getting higher and higher. Sherlock reaches over and pulls me close. I push away from him and glower at him. But my head begins to swim and I sway slightly, dropping my cocoa. Sherlock pulls me back into his arms. "Don't struggle so." He murmurs. "Just…close your eyes."

John turns to look at him. "You should let her go."

"She's scared of heights." Sherlock says patiently as I cling to him. "See? She needs me to hold onto."

"Stop turning this into a romantic moment. It's not going to work! You're just a crutch at the moment, nothing more."

John asks. "What are you gonna do? About Janine?"

"Well, not actually marry her, obviously. There's only so far you can go."

"So what will you tell her?"

"Well, I'll tell her that our entire relationship was a ruse to break into her boss' office. I imagine she'll want to stop seeing me at that point. Which will be quite nice," Sherlock strokes my hair. "she's not that attractive at all and she's dumber than a dumbbell."

"Stop it." I bite out. "Stop touching me."

"And not to mention," Sherlock says softly. "I have just devastated the woman I love more than anything, in an unforgivable fashion. She's the only woman I've ever truly loved and truly want to spend the rest of my life with. I just seem to keep hurting her at every turn."

"Shut up. Just…shut up. Stop it!" I glare at him. "I said I'd help you, I didn't say I'd forgive you! Stop manipulating me. Stop saying things like that to me."

The lift stops at floor 32 and the doors open. Sherlock nudges me out the door as we walk out. He immediately begins looking around for his new fiancée. After a moment he stops, frowning when there's no sign of her. We walk into her office, and she's nowhere to be seen.

"So where did she go?" John asks.

"It's a bit rude." Sherlock complains. "I just proposed to her."

John walks across the room towards the window and sees Janine lying on the floor. "Sherlock?"

Sherlock walks over as John bends over her. "Did she faint?" He glances at me. "Do they really do that? Bit dramatic wouldn't you say?"

I glower at him. "Maybe she looked at what marriage means to you through my eyes, and I was traumatic enough to make her heart stop beating."

We both casually look around the room when John announces. "It's a blow to the head. She's breathing. Janine?"

She moans quietly. Sherlock looks round the rest of the office and sees something in an adjoining room. He walks into the office. "Another in here." I follow Sherlock into the room and spot a suited man lying face down on the floor. "Security."

"Does he need help?" John asks.

Sherlock looks down at him for a moment before frowning. "Ex-con. White supremacist, by the tattoo, so who cares? Stick with Janine."

"Since I don't give a damn about Janine," I kneel down by the guard. "I'll help this man."

"He's not worth helping."

"Maybe. But I don't think Janine is worth helping. This man just wants help, Janine wanted my husband."

"Janine, focus on my voice now." John says. "Can you hear me?" Sherlock begins looking around the room again. After several long moments, John looks up and walks over to Sherlock before whispering. "Hey, they must still be here."

Sherlock whispers back. "So is Magnussen. His seat's still warm. He should be at dinner but he's still in the building." He looks upwards. "Upstairs!"

John takes out his cell phone from his pocket. "We should call the police."

Sherlock gives him an incredulous look. "During our own burglary?! You're really not a natural at this, are you?"

John sighs and switches his phone off again. He heads back to Janine as Sherlock whispers loudly. "No, wait, shh!" Sherlock sniffs deeply. "Perfume, not Janine's."

"Well, you'd know wouldn't you?" I mutter.

"Claire-de-la-lune." Sherlock moves off. "Stay with John."

I shrug. "Why would I follow you?" I slap the security guard's face gently. "Mr., can you hear me? Be careful Sherlock." The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them. I look down at the man, my face growing red. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid." I mutter hotly.

"I will Tammy." Sherlock says tenderly.

"It was a habit." I snarl. "It' doesn't mean _anything _it's just a dirty habit."

"John?" Janine moans. "Where's…Sherlock? He-he was-

"Advise her to stay down John," I snarl. "or I might throw her out the window!"

John speaks. "Janine, it was a ruse. Sherlock just wanted to get into the office."

"What? No, he-he bought me an engagement ring."

"He borrowed Tammy's." he exhales. "You do know that you managed to mess up his marriage."

"Sherlock messed it up himself. Janine added to it, but don't shift all of the blame onto her. Though she knew very well what she was getting into. An affair with a married man, those never turn out well in the end."

That's when I hear a gun go off. A few seconds later, there's a loud thud. John and I look at each other before we go hurrying up the flight of stairs to the next floor. I follow behind John, cautiously.

John spies an open door and enters. "Sherlock?" The concern in his voice causes me to frown. Only once I see Sherlock's fallen figure, do I understand why. I stand there, clinging to the doorframe, forcing myself not to run to him. It seems from the moment I met him, I've been chasing after the man. Not this time. He bends down to put his ear against Sherlock's mouth. "Can you hear me?" He looks towards Magnussen, who is lying on the floor on his side. "What happened?"

Magnussen responds weakly. "He got shot."

My heart stops at those words.

John speaks softly. "Jesus." He opens Sherlock's coat and that's when I see lots of blood on his shirt around the bullet wound. "Sherlock! Oh, my-

I fight it, I really do, but I can't. I release the door and kneel down beside Sherlock, placing his head in my lap. "Sherlock?" I am far too concerned for my own good and I curse myself for feeling this way. "Sherlock?" I slap his face gently. "Wake up now." I shout at John. "Why is he _always _doing this to me!?"

John reaches into his back pocket and looks sternly across to Magnussen. "Who shot him?" Magnussen sits up and puts his glasses on, without responding.

I look at John. "He can't be faking this can he?"

John has his phone to his ear. "No Tammy. He's not." I look up at John as he studies Sherlock's figure, he then shakes his head. "He's going into shock. We need to get him to a hospital."

"Or else?"

"He's going to die." I stare at John in shock as he talks with the emergency service operator. My world swims before me in one ball of confusion. I'm only jarred out of it when John drops his phone and leans over Sherlock. "God, he's stopped breathing!"


	38. 38: Sherlock dies again

Chapter thirty-eight

Sherlock dies again

Nothing seems real to me as emergency siren sounds as paramedics wheel Sherlock out to the waiting ambulance. John is at his side; I am fighting tears as I walk alongside Sherlock. His face is so pale and his skin is ice cold.

Why does something like this always happen to me? I'm supposed to be mad at him! I'm supposed to be furious as hell at him! But now, all emotions pertaining to love are flooding my soul at this moment. Sherlock is shot in the chest, flat on his back, fighting for his life. I hold onto his hand as the ambulance races through the streets. I whisper words of encouragement and of love that he can't hear.

A paramedic tears Sherlock's shirt open, revealing the wound. An oxygen mask has been strapped to his face and his eyes are closed. "Sherlock." John says with concern. "We're losing you!" I gasp. "Sherlock? Come on. Stay with us."

"Sherlock. Please." I beg him. Sherlock's eyelids fall shut. "Don't go. Please," tears pour down my cheeks. "don't leave me again. Please." I begin sobbing. "Don't leave me. Please! Don't leave me!" the heart monitor lets out a continuous tone and I gasp as I look at the monitor in horror. "Oh God! No! Sherlock! Please! Don't! Don't do this to me again!"

I remember very little as the doctor's wheel Sherlock inside the emergency room. John and I do manage to stay with them, but we're not allowed inside the operating room. John and I uselessly pace back and forth.

I drop to my knees and sob. "Oh, God! Please! Don't, take him yet. Please!" I scream to the heavens. "I need him! Oh, I need him! I don't know why, I need him!"

"Tammy?" John gasps out. "Please."

I look up at John. "I love him. I'm a bloody fool and idiot. If he dies again…my heart will break. I can't live without him!"

The door opens and a Charles comes out. He exhales. "Tammy…I'm so sorry. Sherlock…he was…dead on arrival."

I jump up, shock and horror washing over me. "No! No! You're wrong!" I shove past him and run into the operating room. Sherlock is lying on the table, bare from the waist up and with a breathing tube down his throat. His eyes are closed as the monitor's single tone informs me that there is no heartbeat.

"God, Sherlock no."

"Ma'am you can't-

"Give her a minute." Charles snaps. "If you don't, we could get sued by her. Believe me, she's the woman who put 'the sun' out of business."

"Sherlock." I lean over him, running my hands over his face. "Please. Please no." I kiss his lips, desperately. "Please. Wake up." I beg him. "Please." I don't remember how many more times I kiss him, but he doesn't respond. "Why?" I ask him. "Why…did you do this to me? How can you? To me, to Linda, to Sherlock, this is the second time I'm going to have a baby without you near me." I rest my head against his chest and sob uncontrollably. "Why?" I take his cold, dead hand in mine. "I love you Sherlock. I do." I kiss his shoulder as I repeat my wedding vows to him. "I love you. I cannot live without my life, I cannot live without my soul. You are my life and my soul. I cannot live without you. Please…don't put me through this again."

That's when I hear the monitor give out a single blip and Sherlock's index finger twitches very slightly in my hand. I gasp as I look up. "Sherlock?" My heart rate jumps and I tighten my grip on his hand. "Sherlock, Sherlock, come back to me. Now!" The line on the heart monitor blips and shows its first spike. "Charles!" I gasp out. "He's not dead! Look!"

One of the doctors turns his head to look towards the monitor. His eyes widen. "God!" He swears from behind his mask. "We've got a heartbeat!"

Sherlock's left index finger lifts off the cover and tears begin pouring out of me. The doctor's eyes widen, and all the staff in the room hurries back to the table. One of the doctors stares as if he can't believe what he is seeing.

"Ma'am, you have to leave."

I step back, but don't leave. "I'm not leaving Sherlock." I choke. "Oh, I'm not leaving."

The heart monitor shows another spike and another blip can be heard. I hold my breath as the heart monitor's blips become more regular. I'm still holding onto Sherlock's hand when he opens his eyes.

I let out a cry. "Thank God. Thank God!" He turns his head slowly towards me. "Sherlock!" I cry anew at the sight of those eyes. "Sherlock! I love you."

Light and hope flares in his tired eyes. Charles grabs me and escorts me out of the room. "Tammy, let them work, he's going to be ok now."

An hour later, I'm sitting in a chair beside Sherlock's hospital bed, deep in thought. This was a dilemma for me. I was still in love with Sherlock, the whole trauma of this night had shown me where my heart truly lay. But…the hurt was still there, buried down inside of me, temporarily swallowed up over emotions of relief.

The hospital door opened and I turned to see Charles. "Hey." He whispers. "Aren't you ready to go home yet?"

I shake my head. "No."

"You need to rest."

"I'm fine." I bit my lip. "You know, I almost died once. In fact…I think I did die. Sherlock stayed by my bed for three days, never left me."

"He loves you Tammy, more than anyone could ever imagine."

"Does he?" I need someone to talk to. Charles was always great at listening to me. "He cheated on me Charles." I look down at the floor. "He had an affair, but he says it was…for a case."

"Did he tell you everything?" I nod. "Was it the truth?"

"I don't know." I shrug my tired shoulders. "I don't know. He has an affair…for a case. Most men…when they cheat have reasons but…for a case. I just…I can't believe it."

"It wasn't really for a case."

I look up at Charles curiously. "You know?"

He nods. "Unfortunately, I do know."

I gasp and bolt up in my chair. "If you know then tell me!"

"I can't."

"Why'd he tell you and not me?"

"Tammy, he didn't tell me." He assured me gently. "I just happened to be there when the crisis happened. Believe me, he had no other alternative."

"Charles…please."

"No." He stands up and shoves his hands in his pockets. "It's not mine to tell. You need to hear the words from him, not me." He exhales. "I couldn't…have ever done what he did. He knew it would hurt and devastated you, but he did do it to protect you. He also did it to hide you from a greater pain."

"I don't see how."

"I didn't either, but then he explained how. I wouldn't have had the strength to do what he did, but he did." He starts to walk away, but pauses. "There's a song that says, 'a fool will loose tomorrow, reaching back for yesterdays,' I believe you know it."

"Yes." I nod. "It's 'I'll never love this way again' sung by Dionne Warwick."

"Don't loose your tomorrows for a yesterday Tammy. Keep holding on, wait, and give him time to explain. He will, I know he will. I know you don't trust him, but I know you trust me."

Sherlock lets out a moan and we both move towards his bed. I hover over him and take his hand. "Sherlock?" his eyes open for a moment and I exhale. "It's me." I kiss his hand. "I'm still somewhat mad at you, but I'm glad to see you."

Sherlock opens his mouth and whispers. "Mary."

I frown. "Mary? What about Mary?" Sherlock slips back into unconsciousness. I frown and look at Charles. "What does he mean Mary?"

He shrugs. "I have no idea. You should go, he'll be sleeping all night."

I shake my head. "No. he didn't desert me in the hospital when I was gravely injured. And even though he doesn't deserve it, I won't leave him."

Charles nods. "Ok. I'll arrange for a cot for you to sleep in."

"Thank you." The door closes and I look down at Sherlock in confusion. "What…did you mean by Mary? Why her?"


	39. 39: Janine bids Sherlock farewell

Chapter thirty-nine

Janine bids Sherlock farewell

It was a long and difficult week for me. I was torn between visiting Sherlock or not. I also had an obligation to Sherlock, Linda and the little one on the way. So I spent my days with the children and my nights with Sherlock. He slept a lot, so we didn't talk and frankly, I wasn't sure if I could find the right words to tell him how I was feeling if he did wake up.

But that all changed one morning when I was awoken by a female voice. "I'm buying a cottage." Correction. Not a female voice…Janine's. She slaps a newspaper down. I've got my back to the two of them, so I can't see what's going on, but I can hear. "I made a lot of money out of you, mister. Nothing hits the spot like revenge for profits."

"Keep your voice down." Sherlock's voice is tired. "You didn't give these stories to Magnussen, did you?"

"God, no, one of his rivals. He was spitting!" Sherlock grunts as Janine continues angrily hissing. "Sherlock Holmes, you are a back-stabbing, heartless, manipulative bastard."

"I said keep your voice down, Tammy's exhausted." Sherlock presses the button on a remote on the bed, causing the bed to allow him into more of a sitting position. "And you, as it turns out, are a grasping, opportunistic, publicity-hungry tabloid whore. Tammy, as always, had you labeled properly. And you are a bitch, that's all you do, bitch about everything!"

Janine's tone is cheerful. "So we're good, then?"

I can just picture him curtly nodding his head. "Yeah, of course." A breath later, he asks. "Where's the cottage?"

"Sussex Downs."

"Nice. It's gorgeous. There's beehives, but I'm getting rid of those." Sherlock gasps with pain. "Aw, hurts, does it? Probably wanna restart your morphine. I might have fiddled with the taps."

"How much more revenge are you gonna need?"

"Just the occasional top-up. Dream come true for you, this place, they actually attach the drugs to you!"

"Not good for working."

"You won't be working for a while, Sherl." Sherlock sighs softly. I can tell he detests Janine's nickname of 'Sherl.' I hope she called him that often. "You lied to me. You lied and lied."

"I exploited the fact of our connection."

"When?" Janine asks. "Just once would have been nice."

That's when I realize that she's talking about actually sleeping with Sherlock. I hold my breath. "Oh, I was waiting until I divorced Tammy."

Janine's voice rises slightly. "That was never gonna happen!"

"Exactly Janine." His tone was slightly snappish. "I played a part and it's over and done with. You can take it anyway you want, but I love my wife."

"You hurt her."

He's silent for a moment. "I have my reasons."

"Were they good reasons?"

Sherlock is silent for a moment. "At the time, but now…I'm not so sure."

"Got to go." She sighs and stands up. "I'm not supposed to keep you talking." She picks up her handbag. "And also I have an interview with The One Show and I haven't made it up yet." She walks to the door and then turns back. I close my eyes. "Just one thing, you shouldn't have lied to me. I know what kind of man you are ... but we could have been friends. You shouldn't have lied to her."

"Why do you care?" Sherlock asks.

"I wouldn't, except I heard from one of the doctors here that she practically forgave you for everything that you did to her the moment you came back to life. She loves you, it's obvious, I hear she's been here every night since you got shot and that's _after _you had an affair! You're right, I don't know how you persuaded her to marry you twice, you clearly don't deserve her."

"I know." Sherlock's tone assures me that he's serious. "I've never deserved her. I destroy everything I touch. I've done more than touch her, and as a result she's suffered unthinkable pain from me."

"Do you love her?"

"I think I do, I don't know what love is exactly." My eyes open at his admission. Janine and our eyes lock for a moment as Sherlock continues. "I do know…that I feel alone when I'm not near her. I've never felt happiness; I only feel it when I'm near her. Desire, she bites her lip and I fear my heart is going to burst because it's beating so hard. Anger, I'm often angry with her but it's out of concern. Fear, that's the hardest thing for me to accept. I'm always so worried for her safety that I don't bother to think about her feelings until I've completely ruined everything for her."

Janine asks Sherlock outright. "Did you ever think that all your secrets and your attempts to protect her is what's killing your chances with her every bloody time? Did you ever tell her how you feel, that you're scared for her safety?"

"I can't." he exhales. "How can I look into that face and tell her that she scares me to death? I'm just now learning to say 'I love you' more often to her. I read love letters to her, because as much as I want to say how I feel, I have to rely on the words of others to say what I truly feel." Tears slide down my cheeks at his words. The frustration is evident in his voice and I can't help but wonder how long he's been keeping this back. I know he wouldn't tell anyone this, but he must figure that Janine isn't going to come back into our lives, so he needs someone to talk to. "She's this…delicate flower, which I keep crushing in my hands."

"You said you had a reason, what reason was that?"

I hold my breath as he speaks. "I chose to inflict a lesser pain than a greater pain. That's all…I can say."

"You're not protecting her, you're hiding her. You leave her in the dark and then just pull her into the light. You prefer giving her the shock treatment instead of telling her the truth or getting her directly involved in your work. She knew what she was getting into when she married you. I don't know why you did this, but you need to tell her. Now."

"She's asleep."

"She's actually awake. She's been awake the entire time." I turn over on my side and Sherlock's eyes flash wide. "Tell her! I'll give your love to John and Mary." Janine flashes me a smile. "Good luck with him." She starts to close the door but stops to address me. "Incidentally, there was no sex. We had one shower though and for the life of me I couldn't figure out why he was so flustered. For a minute I thought it was because I surprised him, but now I see why. He really didn't put his heart into the kissing. Now I see why."

I lick my lips and ask. "Why…are you telling me this?"

"I don't know what goes on in this guy's head, but I think his heart was in the right place. He's just needs things spelled out for him." she winks at me. "And I think you're the right teacher for him."

She goes out and Sherlock looks towards the door, as if hoping anyone else will walk in and rescue him from what's about to unfold. He then turns towards the morphine dispenser and pushes the button, grunting in pain. The level drops back down instead of rising; he releases the button with a sigh.

For a moment, we're silent, but he's the first to speak. "How are the children?"

"Fine. They're with John and Mary. The doctors won't allow them in. Charles says he'll smuggle them in here to see you tomorrow."

"Great."

I bite my lip. "I heard what you told Janine. All of it." He closes his eyes and I ask. "Why…can't you tell me…things like that? I'm your wife…and you can't tell me that…you're scared for me. Why?"

"I'm tired Tammy." He says. "Later."

"No, you want to avoid this conversation." My tone is firm as I stand up and walk over to him. "I know that Charles and Greg know something that I don't know. Charles told me-

Sherlock's head whips around. "What?" His eyes are wide and he looks terrified for a moment. "What did he tell you?"

"Nothing." I assure him. "He merely said that…there was another reason for you pushing me aside. He didn't tell me, he said that it wasn't for him to tell. I didn't ask Greg, I'd rather hear it from your lips than his." Sherlock bites his lip tightly. "He will tell me if I ask him, you know he will, but I'm asking you to tell me now."

"Did you ever think that maybe it was too hard for me to tell you?" He demands. "Tammy, I erased a whole experience from your memory."

I stared at him. "What? How?"

"Too complicated to explain. But I told you once, I made John forget a whole Wednesday once and he never knew. I did the same to you. I took a whole hour from your memory."

"Why?"

"So you wouldn't know what had happened to you."

"Know what had happened to me?" I ask as my heart begins to pound in terror. "Why…would you erase an experience from my memory?"

"Because it was a horrible experience and I don't want you to relive it."

I frown. "Relive what?"

He looks away. "I can't tell you."

"Please Sherlock, I need to know." I reach out and touch his cheek gently. "If you love me, like you say you do, then tell me."

He inhales painfully, looks up at me, tears leaking down his cheeks. That…begins to worry me, never, have I see him fight back tears like this before. "It's going to shock and hurt you, Tammy, and the look on your face is going to hurt me more than this bullet hole in me. Are you sure you want to know?"

I tremble. "No. I don't."

"Then I won't-

"Sherlock, I don't want to know…I _need _to know. Because…if…we're going to try to progress through any of this, I need to know. I'm not promising anything Sherlock. But we have two children together, a third on the way, and I know you had an alternate reason that you're not telling me. I know it's bad because…you went through tremendous lengths to hide it from me." His gaze goes down to my hand before looking up at me, silently asking permission. I nod. "Go ahead Sherlock."

He takes my hand in his, running his finger over my wedding band before pressing a kiss to my hand. He's silent for a long time, and I wait patiently for him to speak. And when he does, it's nothing like what I was expecting. "You were raped Tammy….that night….during John's wedding."


	40. 40: Unraveling the riddles

Chapter forty

Unraveling the riddles

Shock washes over me as a ton of bricks fall on my head. "Wait a minute!" I hold up my hand and close my eyes. "What-when was this supposed to have happened? How?"

He clears his throat, blinking back the tears. "The burglar," he shook his head. "I-I didn't get there soon enough."

My head is swimming and I sink onto the edge of his bed in total shock. "You're not…making any of this up are you?"

He shakes his head. "I wish I was. Mrs. Hudson heard you screaming and ran down to get me."

"She knew?"

"Yes. Greg, Charles and I were discussing the possibility of doing something for you, like a surprise party, when she came down in the elevator" He shudders. "I can't delete the scene from my mind. You were crying, choking, frightened and nothing I could say or do would comfort you. Charles…was the attending physician, so you can question him if you don't believe me. Your rapist…I made him spill everything he knew in five minutes before killing him."

My mouth dropped open. "You killed him?"

"I broke a man's fingers because he dared to lay a hand on you." Sherlock's voice cracked with anger emotions that had been buried down deep inside him for almost a month. "This man raped _you_, while you were pregnant with _my_ child. Of course I killed him!"

"But how…

"Oh, it was easy." He brushed it off. "I knocked him down the stairs; he fell, breaking his neck in several places. His death was too easy to suit me. Greg verified that it was an accident. They all swore that they'd keep it secret. John and Mary don't know of course."

"I meant…how or what does…this have to do with Magnussen?"

He exhales shakily. "He gets through people, through their pressure points. Finds out where their pressure is and then uses it to his advantage."

"I'm your wife."

"Yes, but the wife is not always the pressure point. He had to make sure, that you were my pressure point."

"And…am I?"

"You're my heart Tammy; of course you're my pressure point. I needed to create a new pressure point for him. After all, what man has an affair with someone else after his wife's been raped?" he inhales against the tears. "The kind of man who doesn't care about her anymore."

"I see." I nod. "You diverted your affections seemingly off me, so I wouldn't be a toy for him to use. Janine could have been hurt."

"His secretary, remember? She's got her own protection."

"So…what happened to me?" I ask. "Why…could you tell me?"

He exhaled. "I wanted to protect you from it. I've seen women after they've been raped and I've solved so many cases of women who've had endured such torment. I didn't-

"You wanted to spare me from it all?"

I could tell that some particular cases haunted him, in spite of his attempts to delete them from his mind. Sherlock had seen so much, beginning at an early age, and it hadn't been good for him. Maybe this explained his callous, rude and unemotional side of him. He'd built up a wall to protect himself from such things. I was the only one who'd climbed over that wall of his.

"Yes."

"You'd let me think you were a cheat, to cover that I'd been," the word swells in my throat, threatening to choke me. "raped?" I inhale deeply and confess. "I can see…how…at the time….it might have made sense. And…in spite of everything…I can see that was an act of love…of sorts. But you should have told me."

He reached up and stroked my face. "I'm supposed to protect you. I failed you that night."

"Don't blame yourself." I scold him gently. "That's where you went wrong. For once, you blamed yourself at the wrong instance! It wasn't your fault. You can't protect me from everything. I am a strong woman Sherlock; you knew that from the moment you married me."

"You're also a very, emotional and fragile person." He pointed out.

"May I remind you of some of the crazy things I did in my lifetime with you? Within the first hour of meeting, you had me running down the street chasing a serial killer!" He smiled faintly. "Then, a few days later I jumped on a smuggler's back, while he was wielding a sword, preparing to cut your head off!"

"And he almost cut your head off."

"And you saved me, as I'd save you moments before." I tilt my head to the side. "Was that even a date or not?"

Sherlock shrugged. "If it weren't for the fact that I was tempted to kiss you when we were hiding behind that clothes rack, I would have said no. Let's just say it was a bad date."

"I wanted you to kiss me too, and I was so mad at myself for thinking that way." I cleared my throat. "Back onto the subject we were discussing. The point is, I am not weak Sherlock. I can handle everything that life throws at me, that's why it's called life. You, on the other hand, cannot, stand to think of me in danger. At times it's almost adorable that you've made it your mission to shelter me, but it's not working. You can't cut me out of your life like you keep doing Sherlock. While it's protecting me at the moment, it's destroying us. Don't worry about _me_, worry about _us_." I exhale. "I know you're tired and I'll let you rest now. But you need to talk to me Sherlock. I'm not as smart as you and I could never be." He looks longingly at my hand as I withdraw it from his grip. "You should rest, after I do this." I slap his face hard. "That's for the day and a half of absolute Hell you put me through last week!"

He groans. "Would you care to hit me with a hammer instead?"

"Idiot. And this," I lean forward to kiss him on the mouth. "is for sparing me the pain and trauma of having to deal with that…situation. That…was sweet and wonderful of you to do."

The spark is still there, but there's a maturity to the kiss. It's as if…something that was missing between us was suddenly there. Then I realize it was openness, on Sherlock's part. We have a lot more talking to do, I know that. Frankly, I don't know where we are in our relationship together, for my poor mind is still swirling around like a dust filled tornado.

"Tammy," he exhales. "I need you to do something for me."

"What is it?"

"Get the children…and meet me outside the hospital in an hour."

I gasp. "You are not leaving this hospital."

"Can't be helped."

"Sherlock!"

"Tammy…listen to me," his face is serious. "Mary is the one who shot me."

My mouth falls open and I stare at him in shock. "What? No!" I rub my head. "But then…that would make sense."

"What would make sense?"

"When you woke up…you said Mary, not my name."

"So sorry about that Tammy. I've got to go into hiding. And this time…I'm taking you and the children with me."

I bite my lip before whispering. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For once…including us in your case and your life."

"You've always been a part of my life."

"That's it Sherlock. _A part _of your life, not involved _in_ your life." I exhale. "Right, I'll get ready."

"And tell no one."

"I won't even tell the children." I nod. "I'll get you something to wear as well. Can't have you running around in the streets in that hospital gown. You have to trust in me Sherlock, I've always trusted in you, now trust in me. See me for what I am."

He studies me. "At the moment, I see you as my very, pregnant wife who I'm involving in a dangerous case. But I also see…this other side of you that I've never seen, clearly."

"And?"

"I don't think I can call you 'Riddler' anymore. I'm beginning to unravel you." He studied me carefully. "I think….I'm beginning to see the light now Tammy."


	41. 41: Gravity

Chapter forty-one

Gravity

Getting the children ready was an easy picture. They visited with their father for a few minutes, before we left to get ready to leave. They seemed to know something was up, for their faces were solemn. I used my 'baby' bag to stick a few essential items inside it like food, water and a few blankets.

We arrived outside the hospital and stood directly where Sherlock had asked us. I glanced casually around, waiting for him to show up. Linda gasped and pointed up over my head. I spun around, to see Sherlock climbing down a bed sheet out of the window!

I reached up instinctively to help him down. He groaned slightly and I apologized. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"No." he exhaled and looked around. "Where's the cab?"

"Waiting in the alley." I wrap my arm around his waist. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No, but it has to be done." Linda latched onto his hand and he smiled down at her. "Thank you."

I paste on a smile. "This is rather exciting, helping you break out of the hospital."

"I trust you remember when I broke you out of a hospital once?"

I nod. "Yes. I don't forget things like that Sherlock. It was a lovely day, even if we did wind up at a crime scene."

"At least it wasn't a gruesome scene." I helped Sherlock get situated inside before climbing in to sit next to him. Linda and Sherlock sat opposite, their solemn faces studying him. Sherlock glanced at me. "Have they blinked since they left the house?"

I smirked. "I don't think so. They're you're children, they can sense things."

Sherlock Jr. studied his father, his eyes wide. "You better daddy?"

Sherlock smiled and tousled his hair. "Almost Sherlock." He turns to me. "I hope you know that it's awkward for me to call him Sherlock."

"It wouldn't be awkward if you'd had been around to pick his name." I remind him. "In my grief, it was one way for me to hold onto you."

We're both silent for a long time. All the sounds that we hear are the children playing pattycake. Almost Sherlock reached for my hand. "I have thrown you off mount Everest a dozen times haven't I?"

I nod. "And I'm not letting you do that to me anymore."

He bites his lip and asks. "So…where do I stand with you?"

"Where do I stand with you? This one…is a really, really, big mess and I don't know exactly what I feel. Mycroft wasn't far off when he predicted that I would want a divorce." Sherlock inhales sharply and I look at him. "But that was before you died and came back to life on the operating table. When you died, for real that time, I wanted nothing more than to have you back with me. I love you Sherlock, and in spite of the pain you'd given me…. I wanted you back. But we've _got _to sort this out, somehow. I want things to go back to the way they were when we were courting and when we first married. There's been a wall of distrust and secrets between us since then."

"I heard you, when I was dead." He whispered. "I heard you calling me, begging me to come back. Your voice, and Moriarty's, gave me the jump that I needed to find the strength to fight."

"Moriarty?" I frown. "What does he have to do with this?"

"He wanted me dead, and he almost killed me for good, in a mental way. Your tears, our children and the fact that John's in danger, gave me the strength to fight." Our taxi comes to a stop. "Tell you later." He crawls painfully out of the taxi. He pats his jacket for his wallet. "Where did I-

I pull it out of my purse and shoot him a smile. "Right here." I pay the taxi man and hand him back the wallet. "There. You finally paid for the taxi."

The taxi driver pulls away and Sherlock shakes his head. "What would I do without you?"

"Do without I suppose, you did once before, remember?"

He nods. "Yes. I also remember that it wasn't very pleasant for me."

I lick my lips and look around. "Now, where are we going?"

"Leinster Gardens." He explains as he begins walking slowly. "We've got to cross a street to get there." I wrap my arm around his waist as he inhales deeply. "You smell nice. You're wearing 'phantom of the opera' again. You don't wear it often."

"I just grabbed it, I was starting to smell."

"You actually don't sweat at all. You start to sweat when you're under pressure or I'm making you feel the heat."

"Stop saying things like that, the children are here."

"Well how would they know what I'm talking about?"

"So, what's so special about Leinster Gardens?"

"It's a series of houses that were demolished years ago to make way for the London Underground, a vent for the old steam trains. I won it in a card game with the Clarence House Cannibal. Nearly cost me my kidneys, but fortunately I had a ... straight flush."

I scowl at him. "You play Poker too as well?"

He shrugs. "Need to know everything." He gasps and pauses for a moment.

"This isn't a good idea." I say as I reach for a water bottle. "You could hurt yourself."

"I'm fine." I hold the water bottle up to his mouth and he takes a few swallows. "Thank you. Now, let's get inside."

It's a cold, dirty deserted place. Sherlock guides me upstairs to one room where there's one bed. "Here." He says. "You sit down and relax."

I shake my head. "No, you're the one who got shot."

"You're pregnant."

"I'm not the one in any danger. Now, lie down before I am forced to use violence!"

Sherlock smirks. "I'd like to see you try."

"Get on the bed Sherlock, now!"

"Bedtime daddy." Linda chirps loudly from behind me.

"Mommy said now!" Sherlock says, crossing his arms. "She means it!"

Sherlock frowns at them. "I will not have them talking to me like that!"

"Then get in bed!" I laugh as I gently guide him to sit on the bed. "Now."

"Then where will," he lets out a sharp hiss of pain. "you sleep?"

I shrug. "Don't know yet. I'll look around. There must be a chair I can sit in."

I swing his feet up on the bed and Sherlock frowns at me. "Don't baby me Tammy."

I scowl at him. "I'm not babying you; I'm taking care of you. You're injured and frankly I'd like the opportunity to kill you myself. So get better soon!"

Sherlock's brows rise in amusement. "I think there's room for all five of us on here, if we're careful."

I shoot him a warning glance. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

"No, just trying to get you off your feet for a while, you're making me nervous. Come on, we'll put Linda between us and Sherlock will be on your other side. Keeping it perfectly respectable to suit you."

I exhale. "Well, I don't want Linda crawling on your stomach; you know she loves to do that."

He smirks as I set Linda on her side. She burrowed close and I lay down beside her and Sherlock climbs up and nestles into my side. Sherlock reaches over Linda's head to place his hand on my growing stomach. "You are ok aren't you? If you have any spasms or anything, let me know and we'll get John down here."

"I'm fine, honest, now, what are we doing here?"

Sherlock looks down at his phone. "Waiting for Billy to get here, in approximately an hour."

"So, you rest."

"But we've got work to do. Mary's going to be coming down here in two hours."

I bolt up. "Mary!"

"Lie down and relax." He says as he grabs ahold of the back of my shirt and tugs me back down onto the bed. "Things will be fine."

"Fine? Sherlock, she shot you! She could have killed you!"

"Could have, but she didn't, sentiment got in the way from her accomplishing that task."

I groan. "Will you _stop _joking about things like that Sherlock? It's not funny!"

"I wasn't joking." He resumes stroking my stomach. "I'm serious. She could have killed me, but she didn't. She was a highly trained assassin, yet she aims for a place to render me useless. She could have shot me in the head or heart killing me instantly, but she didn't. Tammy, I'd like you to learn how to shoot a gun."

I frown. "I shot the Golem in the rear end, remember?"

He laughs. "I remember which is why I want you to learn to shoot a gun properly. Incidentally, he walks with a limp now. And also, you should definitely learn how to defend yourself."

I nod. "I think I can do that. And when the children are about eight, they should learn self defense as well."

He shrugs. "They actually could begin now."

"No."

"The sooner, the better Tammy. By the time they're ten, they could be positively lethal."

"That makes me feel_ so_ much better."

Sherlock runs his hand down my stomach. "How does it feel?" I frown and turn towards him. "To be carrying my baby inside you?"

I run my hand over my stomach. "Had you asked me a few days ago, I'd have said wonderful. Now…I wish I wasn't, it would certainly make it easier for me to understand myself and my emotions."

Sherlock's fingers close over mine. "I don't know how I'm going to make it up to you for what I've done."

"I got this when I was young." I put my hand right on a nail that was sticking out of a wood board." I hold up my hand, showing him a barely visible circular scar. "It healed in time, but the scar was still there, some things will never go away."

Sherlock's hand ran up my stomach, over my breast, to rest on my heart. "How much more can that heart of yours take?"

"I don't know Sherlock." I bit my lip. "Get some sleep; we've got a busy night ahead of us. And you're supposed to rest up so you can get better."

"Sleep daddy." Linda orders. "Sleep."

Sherlock mutters something before closing his eyes. I smile as I wrap my left arm over Sherlock Jr. shoulder and my right; I link with Sherlock's hand. "Do you mind singing something Tammy?" he asks. "Any little thing?"

"Please mommy?" Sherlock begs. "Please sing!"

Linda nods anxiously. "Please! Mommy sing!"

I chuckle. "All right. I'll sing something."

I don't even think, there's a song on the tip of my tongue and it just pours out of me. _Something always brings me back to you. It never takes too long. __Gravity, by Sara Bareilles, the one song that truly describes my emotions. __No matter what I say or do I'll still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone. You hold me without touch. You keep me without chains. __I turn my head to side, running my hand over my son's hair. __I never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love and not feel your rain._

I shake my head as I feel Sherlock running those famous eyes of his over my face. _Set me free, leave me be._ _I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity. _This song was a perfect description of my emotions for him. I wanted to be free, yet at the same time I didn't want to be without him. Sherlock always had this hypnotic essence about him, always pulling me back to him without even trying. _Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be. __I close my eyes.__ But you're on to me and all over me._

_You loved me 'cause I'm fragile, when I thought that I was strong. But you touch me for a little while __on cue, Sherlock reaches out and touches my cheek.__ and all my fragile strength is gone. __My heart catches in my throat for a second as I feel him tenderly stroking my cheek. __Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity. Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be. __Sherlock's hand relaxes, settling onto my collarbone. __But you're on to me and all over me._ I reach over and run my hand down his face. _Something always brings me back to you. _I smile softly at Sherlock, finding him sound asleep. _It never takes too long._


	42. 42: Mary's confession

Chapter forty-two

Mary's confession

"Tammy?" I wake up to hear Sherlock talking over me. I blink to see him dialing a number on his phone. "Mary's coming down the street."

"Oh no!" I sit up and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. "Where are the children?"

He shrugs. "They're hiding in the next room. They'll come when I call them."

"Oh, goo. So, what's going on?"

"I'm calling Mary. I'm putting it on speaker."

I nod and take ahold of his hand as I stand up as Mary's voice comes over the speaker. _Where are you?_

"Can't you see me?" Sherlock asks with smirk.

_Well, what am I looking for?_

"The lie," he holds onto his side as he moves towards the door. "the lie of Leinster Gardens, hidden in plain sight, hardly anyone notices. People live here for years and never see it, but if you are what I think you are, it'll take you less than a minute." Sherlock is silent for a moment before saying impatiently. "The houses, Mary, look at the houses."

_How did you know I'd come here?_

"I knew you'd talk to the people no one else would bother with."

Mary let out a brief laugh. _I thought I was being clever._

You're always clever, Mary. I was relying on that. I planted the information for you to find." Mary lets out an impressed murmur. "Thirty seconds."

_What am I looking at?_

"No door knobs, no letter box, painted windows. Twenty-three and twenty-four Leinster Gardens," he draws in a breath. "the empty houses. They were demolished years ago to make way for the London Underground, a vent for the old steam trains. Only the very front section of the house remains. It's just a façade." He draws in a sharp breath as he moves down the stairs. I reach for his hand and he squeezes my hand reassuringly as I wrap my around his waist. "Remind you of anyone, Mary? A façade?" I roll my eyes, thinking of Sherlock. Like _he's _in any position to call anyone a facade. "Sorry." He says it like he's addressing Mary, but he's looking deep into my eyes, as if he's reading my mind. "I never could resist a touch of drama." I roll my eyes and look down as his tone turns slightly impatient. "Do come in. It's a little cramped."

_Do you own this place?_

"I won it in a card game with the Clarence House Cannibal. Nearly cost me my kidneys, but fortunately I had a," he winces. "straight flush." Mary pushes the door open and looks inside cautiously. "Quite a gambler, that woman."

Mary walks inside. _What do you want, Sherlock?_

"Mary Morstan was stillborn in October 1972." I stare at Sherlock, wondering how he finds out all this information. "Her gravestone is in Chiswick Cemetery where, five years ago, you acquired her name and date of birth and thereafter her identity. That's why you don't have 'friends' from before that date." Sherlock reaches over and drapes his hand over my shoulder. "It's an old enough technique, known to the kinds of people who can recognize a skip-code on sight have extraordinarily retentive memories."

You were very slow.

Sherlock asks. "How good a shot are you?"

She reaches inside her coat, pulls out a pistol and cocks it. _How badly do you want to find out?_

Sherlock speaks calmly. "If I die here, my body will be found in a building with your face projected on the front of it. Even Scotland Yard could get somewhere with that. Besides, Tammy's not an idiot, she can figure that out in a heartbeat." He squeezes my shoulder. "I want to know how good you are." He switches his voice to become soft and encouraging. "Go on. Show me. The doctor's wife must be a little bit bored by now.

I jump when I hear the gun go off. Sherlock lowers his phone from his ear and switches it off as he walks towards her. "May I see?"

Mary turns towards Sherlock, laughing quietly. "It's a dummy." She takes the headset from her ear. "I suppose it was a fairly obvious trick."

She uses her foot to send a coin across the floor towards Sherlock. She continues walking towards him as then bends down and picks up the coin. When he straightens up and speaks, his voice has a hint of pain. "And yet, over a distance of six feet, you failed to make a kill shot."

He holds the coin up to show the hole shot in it. I step towards him, wrap my arm around his waist. He is shaky on his feet and he is sweating. He is now breathing heavily. "You need to sit down." I whisper. "You're not well."

He ignores me. "Enough to hospitalize me; not enough to kill me. That wasn't a miss." He smiles slightly. "That was surgery." Mary lowers her eyes. "I'll take the case."

I look at him in surprise as Mary asks. "What case?"

"Yours." His tone becomes slightly angry. "Why didn't you come to me in the first place?"

"Because John can't ever know that I lied to him." My heart twists in my chest. "It would break him and I would lose him forever, and, Sherlock, I will never let that happen." Sherlock turns aside, his eyes closed as Mary takes a step towards him. "Please, understand. There is nothing in this world that I would not do to stop that happening."

"Including murdering Sherlock, myself, and my children?" I ask quietly. "We know."

Mary bites her lip, but no words surface. "Sorry." Sherlock comments as he walks to the fuse box and puts his hand onto one of the switches. "Not that obvious a trick."

He flicks the switch and Mary's face fills with dread as if we both realize that John is sitting behind her. She turns slowly to look along the corridor where John is sitting in the seat. She gasps as John stands up smoothes his hair back down and approaches us. His eyes are vacant, no expression in them.

"Sherlock," I exhale. "you didn't."

"I had to." Sherlock speaks softly. "Now talk, and sort it out. Do it quickly."

Mary lets out an anguished sigh as he slowly starts to walk towards her and then stops several feet away. I look at Sherlock, his face is pale. I reach up and touch his forehead; it's damp with sweat. "Sherlock, you need to rest.

He exhales. "Actually, this isn't the place for a domestic."

"Is any place?" I ask. "Please, sit down."

He shakes his head and calls loudly. "Linda! Charles! Sunset Boulevard."

I frown. "Sunset Boulevard? Where'd you get that one?"

"You talk in your sleep."

I gasp. "What? I do not!"

"How would you know…you're asleep." The children run out and head straight to their father. "We're going back to Baker Street, now."


	43. 43: Because you chose her

Chapter forty-three

Because you chose her

Later, John opens the door of the living room at 221B and walks in, sighing quietly. Mary follows him more slowly up the stairs, with Sherlock behind her. John takes off his jacket and drops it onto the dining table.

Mrs. Hudson hurries towards him worriedly. "John."

Mary walks through the door, Sherlock is moving slowly, his head is lowered as if he's bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. He pauses, bracing himself on the banister. I grab ahold of his waist, helping him find support and unconsciously. "Do you take delight in worrying me to death?"

He exhales as he pauses on the steps. "You're a strong woman, remember? I'm fine."

"No, you're not." Sherlock hobbles to the doorway and stops there, bracing himself with one hand on the edge of the open door. I exhale. "Oh, please, will you-

He kisses my brow. "I'm just resting up a spell. I was just shot."

"Don't remind me!"

"Oh, Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson gasps. "Oh, good gracious, you look terrible."

"Get me some morphine from your kitchen." Sherlock says. "I've run out."

Mrs. Hudson blinks in surprise. "I don't have any morphine!"

Sherlock snaps angrily at her. "Then what exactly is the point of you?" I gasp and turn towards him. He exhales and looks down at the ground. "I am sorry."

She stares at Sherlock in surprise for a moment, and then looks around at everyone. Sherlock jr. walks up to Mrs. Hudson and gives her a consoling pat. "What is going on?"

John bites out. "Bloody good question."

Sherlock exhales and looks at John. "The Watson's are about to have a domestic, and fairly quickly, I hope, because we've got work to do."

"Oh, I have a better question." He glares angrily into Mary's face. "Is everyone I've ever met a psychopath?"

Sherlock looks upwards. "Yes."

I groan. "Why can't you just shut up for once?"

"I was answering his question." He clears his throat. "Good that we've settled that. Anyway, we-

John spins around and shouts loudly at Sherlock. "SHUT UP!"

Mrs. Hudson jumps at his shout. John inhales and speaks in a strained, lower voice. "And stay shut up, because this is not funny. Not this time."

Sherlock isn't laughing this time though. "I didn't say it was funny."

John turns to look at Mary. "You." His voice is filled with barely controlled anger. "What have I ever done ... hmm? My whole life ... to deserve you?"

Sherlock leaning against the doorpost. "Everything."

John turns to face him. "Sherlock, I've told you ...shut up."

"Sherlock now is not the time to say such things. You, of all people, don't know what's going on in his mind."

"She's right." John points at me as he takes a few steps towards Sherlock. "She knows."

"Oh, I mean it, seriously. Everything, everything you've ever done is what you did."

John's voice takes on a dangerous warning tone. "Sherlock, one more word and you will not need morphine."

"No!" I step in front of him. "You _will not _hurt him."

He runs his hand down my hair as he talks to John. "You were a doctor who went to war. You're a man who couldn't stay in the suburbs for more than a month without storming a crack den and beating up a junkie. Your best friend is a sociopath who solves crimes as an alternative to getting high." He pauses for a moment as he raises his left hand and waves at him. "That's me by the way. Hello. "He points towards Mrs. Hudson. "Even the landlady used to run a drug cartel."

My mouth drops open in shock as I look towards Mrs. Hudson. "It was my husband's cartel. I was just typing."

Sherlock adds. "And exotic dancing."

"Oh my word!" I mutter.

"Sherlock Holmes," Mrs. Hudson says. "if you've been Youtubeing-

Sherlock talks over her. "John, you are addicted to a certain lifestyle. You're abnormally attracted to dangerous situations and people. So is it truly such a surprise that the woman you've fallen in love with conforms to that pattern?"

John grimaces as he points towards his wife; he's choking back tears. "But she wasn't supposed to be like that! Why is she like that?" He looks towards me. "Yours isn't like that."

"Doesn't she?" Sherlock inhales deeply. "What makes you think that she doesn't? Remember when we first met her John? She went chasing after two men, who she didn't know, because she is secretly attracted to the intrigue, mystery and danger. You called her a quiet woman, but I've heard her scream at me when she's angry. I find that I rely on her and her council far more than I'd like to admit. She's actually a very, very passionate person." Sherlock takes my chin in his hand; he gently forces me to look up into his eyes. "I am a…brilliant man, in….all the ways that don't matter. I can tell anything about a person by looking at them, but…I do not…know how to," he clears his throat. "treat them with respect. Love, I know that word, but actually putting it to use…is another thing. All I can do is…hurt everyone who…matters the most to me. I lie, to protect people, or at least that's what I tell myself, and I always wind up hurting them."

Tears well up in my eyes and I close my eyes tight. I can't look at him anymore, not when he's doing this. Being open, honest, sincere, apologetic and openly honest. "But I know what you mean; I've looked hard at this woman whom I've fallen in love with. She doesn't appear to conform to me, or to my life pattern." I inhale noisily. "She lived a sheltered life, in a protective bubble, she grew up alone with no siblings and her father neglected her. In spite of all that, I never really realized what a strong, strong woman she is. She's polite, she's loving, and she's never hurt anyone in her life. She's very forgiving, she he has a huge heart. She virtually has no faults except for her very stupid devotion towards me. Tammy," he runs his hand through my hair. "is everything…that I am not. I will never understand her honesty, purity, devotion and her love. I don't deserve any of her; I certainly…don't understand…why she chose to let me be her first lover, when I've done nothing to deserve that beautiful gift." I cover my mouth as my shoulders begin shaking. "I don't deserve her. I don't deserve her love, her devotion, her affection," his voice softens as he runs his hand down my arm. His touch, electric as always, causes shivers to run down my arm. "her body and her children. I don't deserve one piece of this woman, I know that I have done _nothing _in my life to deserve her, but here we are." Sherlock looks away for several seconds before looking directly at John. "In answer to your question John. Because you chose her." Those four little words hit me hard in the chest and I bite my lip as he presses his cheek against my face. "Just as I chose mine. Tammy told me once, and in spite of what everyone thinks, I do listen to her. You don't marry the one you can live with. You marry the one can't live without. Regardless of what you've heard, you know that you _cannot _live without Mary."

John stares at him, his face unreadable as he turns away. "Why is everything... always," he shouts suddenly. "MY FAULT?!"

He furiously kicks one of the chairs across the room. Mrs. Hudson jumps as Linda and Sherlock let out a loud wail. Even Sherlock jumps a little as Mrs. Judson turns towards the kitchen. "Oh, the neighbors!"

She hurries away as John turns to face Mary, breathing heavily. "John, listen. Be calm and answer me." He asks slowly, precisely. "What is she?"

John glares at Mary. "My lying wife."

"No. What is she?"

"The woman who's carrying my child who has lied to me since the day I met her?"

"No." Sherlock shakes his head. "Not in this flat; not in this room. Right here, right now, what is she?"

I hold my breath as John glares at Mary for a long time. He finally inhales deeply and speaks harshly. "Okay. Your way. Always your way." John turns, clears his throat, and picks up one of the dining chairs and sets it down. He looks at Mary and orders. "Sit."

She blinks. "Why?"

John whispers angrily while he points down to the chair. "Because that's where they sit, the people who come in here with their stories. The clients, that's all you are now, Mary. You're a client. This is where you sit and talk and this is where we sit and listen, then we decide if we want you or not."

Sherlock pulls away from me and wipes my eyes. "Hey, the children need you. Go on," his tone is soft, gentle and tender. "I'll be fine."

"Easy for _you _to say, you're not the one crying."


	44. 44: Mary's confession

Chapter forty-four

Mary's confession

I come back down to find, Mary handing Sherlock a flash drive. He eyes narrow curiously. "A.G.R.A. what's that?"

Mary looks from him to John as she clears her throat. "My initials."

John looks away as Sherlock looks towards me. I smile and wave my hand. "I'm going to lie down for a bit."

He frowns. "You ok?"

I lie subtly as I nod. "Yes."

"You're walking funny."

"My back hurts a little. But I'm fine," I get on the couch and lay flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling. "please, continue with Mary."

"Everything about who I was is on there." She turns directly to John. "If you love me, don't read it in front of me."

"Why?"

She tries to hold back tears. "Because you won't love me when you've finished ...and I don't want to see that happen." The words hit me hard. It's like…watching the emotional strain between Sherlock and I being played out before my very eyes. All of us loved our respective partner, but the trust had been shattered. Was it even reconcilable for either of us? The heart can only take so much, then at the same time; it's weak enough to surrender to our frail emotions. She looks down as John snatches the drive from the table, before shoving the drive into his pant pocket. Mary looks at Sherlock. "How much do you know already?"

Sherlock is still speaking quietly. "By your skill set, you are, or were, an intelligence agent. Your accent is currently English but I suspect you are not. You're on the run from something; you've used your skills to disappear." poor John shakes his head in disbelief. "Magnussen knows your secret, which is why you were going to kill him; and I assume you befriended Janine," he grimaces, shifting uncomfortably on his chair. "in order to get close to him."

"Oh, you can talk!"

He glowers at her as John snips. "Look at you two. You should have got married."

Mary turns to look at him as Sherlock blinks a couple of times. "I married before you John, it wouldn't have happened. Mary can't hold my interest from one day to the next."

I focus on Mary's words as I experience a small spasm. I bite my lip to keep from crying out. "The stuff Magnussen has on me, I would go to prison for the rest of my life."

"So," John asks. "you were just gonna kill him?"

"People like Magnussen should be killed. That's why there are people like me."

"Perfect! So that's what you were? An assassin?" He looks towards Sherlock. "How could I not see that?"

Mary answers for Sherlock. "You did see that... and you married me." She tilts her head towards Sherlock. "Because he's right." I look at Sherlock and frown. For once, he's not looking pleased about being correct. I don't like it when he does that, but now, for some odd reason, I miss it. "It's what you like."

"So ... Mary," Sherlock grimaces in pain. "any documents that Magnussen has concerning yourself, you want," he grimaces yet again, his voice has a hint of physical pain. I stand up and walk over to the kitchen to dampen a towel and get him a glass of water. "extracted and returned."

"Why would you help me?"

"Because ... you saved my life."

I almost drop the full glass of water at Sherlock's words. John is equally stunned as well. "Sorry, what?"

Sherlock is looking at Mary. "When I happened on you and Magnussen," he takes a couple of noisy, strained breaths. "you had a problem. More specifically, you had a witness. The solution, of course, was simple. Kill us both and leave. However, sentiment got the better of you." I press the cloth onto his neck and he jumps. "God! That's cold!"

"You're hot."

He looks up at me, tired mischief dancing in his eyes. "You never said that to me before."

"Well you are, literally and figuratively." I touch his forehead and hand him the glass of cold water. "Drink."

He takes a few sips before continuing with his deduction. "One precisely calculated shot to incapacitate me…in the hope that it would bide you more time to negotiate my silence." He takes a few more sips. "Of course, you couldn't shoot Magnussen. On the night that both of us broke into the building, your own husband would become a suspect, so," Sherlock now is taking a painful breath every few words. "you calculated ... that Magnussen ... would use the fact of your involvement rather than sharing the information with the police ... as is his MO and then you left the way you came." Sherlock glances at Mary. "Have I missed anything?"

John asks. "How did she save your life?"

"She phoned the ambulance."

John and I frown. "I phoned the ambulance."

"She phoned first." He explains. "You didn't find me for another five minutes. Left to you, I would have died. The average arrival time for a London ambulance is-

Sherlock looks at his watch as the clatter of feet can be heard on the stairs. Two paramedics run into the room. "Did somebody call an ambulance?"

I frown. "No."

"Eight minutes." I glance at Sherlock, finally realizing how heavily he's breathing. He looks towards the paramedics. "Did you bring any morphine?" My senses are immediately alert at Sherlock's question. "I asked on the phone."

The paramedic looks puzzled. "We were told there was a shooting."

"There was, last week." Sherlock is taking his pulse as he takes a sharp breath. "But I believe I'm bleeding internally," my heart rate spikes at those words. "and my pulse is very erratic." He puts his hands on the arms of his chair and starts to push himself upwards. "You may need to re-start my heart," Sherlock's voice catches sharply in pain and his knees buckle. "on the way."

John and Mary hurriedly catch him; I brace his back from behind. "Come on, Sherlock." John says. "Come on, Sherlock."

Sherlock groans and grabs at john, clinging to his shoulder. "John?" the paramedics have a hold of Sherlock. "John, Magnussen is all that matters now. You can trust Mary. She saved my life."

He hisses. "She shot you."

Sherlock makes a face, half-nodding in agreement. "Mixed messages, I grant you." He grimaces, crying out in pain, and starts to fall. John and the paramedics start to lower him to the floor.

"Sherlock?" I get down on the floor beside him; I reach for his hand as he cries out again. "I'm here." They lay Sherlock down as he groans and whimpers. I shake my head as I struggle to remain calm. "God, I don't know how much more of this I can take. This is like…the second time within a week you're going to a hospital in actual danger!

He squeezes my hand, wincing in agony as he presses a kiss to my hand. He flops back on the gurney as one of the paramedics gets out an oxygen mask. "Now, stay with the kids."

I shake my head. "I'm going with you."

"It's my heart." He frowns as he inhales deeply. "I'll be fine."

I don't let go of his hand. "I thought _I _was your heart." I tilt my head to the side. "Unless, Sherlock Holmes, you're lying to me." A huge pain wracks my abdomen and I let out a cry as I suddenly fall forward. "Oh, God!"

Sherlock's eyes widen as he bolts upright. "Tammy?" he immediately falls back with a grunt of pain. A sharp pain stabs me in the abdomen and I can't hold a cry back. "Take care of her!" Sherlock shouts as I clutch my stomach. "Tammy?" All of a sudden, I don't feel so well at all, in fact, I'm hurting. I couldn't answer him and I didn't remember or hear much after John and Mary grabbed onto my arms to keep me from falling on my face.


	45. 45: Broken vows

Chapter forty-five

Broken vows

"Tammy," it's Sherlock's voice I can hear out of the distant fog. "can you hear me?"

"She's waking up fine Sherlock." That's Charles's voice I can hear. "Just relax."

"Relax. How can I relax?" Sherlock sounds like he's panicking. "She's been asleep for two days."

"Shut…up," I croak. "idiot."

Sherlock exhales and I find his face close to mine as I open my eyes. "Oh, I never thought I'd ever miss hearing you call me idiot, but I did."

I blink. "What…happened?" Sherlock leans forward and kisses me firmly on the mouth. I let out a whimper and gently push him away. I stare at him as he caresses my face gently.

Charles is on the other side of my bed. "You almost had a miscarriage." I gasp and looked immediately towards my stomach. My stomach was still round, the baby was still there. "Relax, Tammy," Charles says as he nudges me back down on the bed. "the children are fine."

I exhale. "I'm glad, where are Sherlock and Linda? Are they ok?"

"Yes, John and Mary are taking care of them." Charles chuckles. "but that wasn't what I meant. Tammy….you're having another set of twins."

My head whips around and I stare at Charles. "What?" I spin around and look at Sherlock whose mouth is sagging open in shock. "This…is…all your fault!"

Sherlock stares at me. "My…my fault! How is it my fault?"

"Oh, don't ask me to spell it out!"

"Well, twins don't run in _my _side of the family. It's your fault! Besides, it's not totally my fault!"

"And whose fault is that? _You're _the one with the groping hands, not me! Besides,

"All right! All right!" Charles laughs. "Let's say that the fault lies with the two of you, we break it in two."

I pout and caress my stomach. "I wanted children, I didn't want _children! I do not _want to be like Anne of Green Gables talking about three sets of twins!"

Sherlock groans. "You really don't want three sets of twins do you?"

"I am…venting! _Do not _talk to me!"

"I'm not done giving you the rest of the news." Charles says calmly with a huge drunken smile on his face. "Both of you are going to be stuck in this room together for a whole month."

I groan and grab ahold of my hair. "Oh, no! Why couldn't I be in a coma for this month?"

"Don't say things like that!" Sherlock snaps at me, the anger is apparent in his eyes and voice. "Ever!"

I stare at Sherlock in complete shock. Charles clears his throat. "Do you two…want to know what gender the babies are?"

I turn at him, temporarily stunned from Sherlock's outburst. "Yeah, we've got…nothing but time to discuss names."

"They're both boys."

"Fine. I want to talk with Tammy alone for a moment." Someone knocks on the door and Sherlock snaps. "Come in Molly!"

Molly comes in uncomfortably, bearing a gift of three roses tied with a ribbon. "Hi."

"Hello Molly." Charles steps towards her. His eyes glance down at the flowers. "I see they arrived."

She nodded. "I'm sorry," she looks to Charles and holds out the roses. "I-I there…must be some mistake."

Charles smiles and places a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump slightly. "There is no mistake," he takes the roses from her and places them back into her hand. "I bought them for you." Molly's mouth drops open in shock. She couldn't have looked more surprised, but she was when Charles leaned forward and gave her a gentle kiss on the mouth. Her face flushed red and the roses fluttered to the ground as she places her hands on his chest.

I smile broadly, happy at the scene playing out before us. But as always. Sherlock has to ruin it for everyone. "Don't mind us."

Charles pulls away slightly. "We won't." He kisses Molly once on her nose before pulling away. "I'll see you tonight."

Molly stammers as she bends over and picks up her roses. "Tonight?"

He nods and begins to walk away. "We've got a date."

"We do!" Molly gasps. "I-I don't-

"If we don't have one, then we should be going on one." Charles turns and grins at her. "So, how about it?"

Molly nods dumbly. "I-I guess."

"Good, I'll pick you up at 8:00."

"Do you two mind taking your dating arrangements elsewhere?" Sherlock asks. "Please?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Charles says as he takes ahold of Molly's hand and pulls her towards him. "we will."

"Have fun!" I call. "He's a wonderful dancer Molly!"

The door closes and for a moment, the only sounds in the room and Sherlock and my breathing. We look around awkwardly before Sherlock demands. "So…what are we?"

I frown. "Pardon?"

"What are we?" His voice is angry, but I can hear that it's something that he clearly must say to me. "Tammy."

His phone rings and I point at it. "Answer it."

He grabs his phone and angrily answers it. "Hello!" He barks into the phone. "Sorry mother." I look up at him as he flops back onto his pillows. He's trying hard not to look at me. "Yes. She's awake. No…I haven't told her yet. I was about to! No, it's something I need to do! Fine!" He hands out the phone to me. "She wants to talk to you."

I take the phone with a frown. "Hello?"

_Tammy! Thank God you're all right! Sherlock has been so worried._

"I know. What's…going on? Is he going to drop something on me?"

_Yes, and I thought it best that I give you a warning._

"Thank you. Care to soften the blow?"

_We've been talking these last few days. He's told me that he's made a mess of his marriage. Tammy, I'm sorry, that things are so irreconcilable._

I frown. "I never said that."

_He's told me that he's going to honor your request. I loved having you as a daughter-in-law, and I hope we can still be friends._

I frown. "Ok? But…what are you trying to say?"

_That you two are getting a divorce._

I bolt up in the bed. "Divorce!" I look over at Sherlock, who's studying his covers. "Oh…wait a minute! I didn't say that!" I shout at him as I drop the phone on the bed. "What do you mean we're getting a divorce?"

"Aren't we?" He demands. "Look, I've thought long and hard about it! We _never _should have ever gotten married! I've done _nothing _but hurt you! I've lied to you and hurt you in the most inhumane ways. I've broken both of my marriage vows to you at least five times! In the entire time we've been involved together, you've gotten shot, assaulted, raped and you almost miscarried! And it's all because of me!" The hurt and anger in Sherlock's voice and face is enough to let me know that I've taken too long in telling him straight out that I love him and I love what we've had together. "I want you out of my life before it's too late! I don't want _anything _more to happen to you!" He throws his hands up in the air. "I've lost you, it's all _my _fault and I know that! I'm not selfish enough to even trying working this out again. I certainly _won't _ask you again, because I am not going to put you through any more of this!" His voice cracks slightly. "I still love you, but too much to put you through whatever the future for us holds. I'm going to release you from our vows."

I stare at him in shock. I cover my mouth as tears run down my cheeks. "I…can't."

"What did you say?"

I yank my hand down from my mouth and shout at him the words that my heart had decided the moment I saw him bleeding to death on the floor. "I don't want…anyone else, I want…you." He stares at me in surprise. "I love you Sherlock. I don't want a divorce."


	46. 46: The sun shines through the rain

Chapter forty-six

The sun shines through the rain

I stare at the man I love in shock. I cannot believe he just said those words to me. I shake my head. "You say that you love me….right in the middle of saying that we're getting a divorce?"

"You know that I love you and you also know that I am right!" He snaps at me. "I'm doing what's best for you and the children. I should have never come back into their lives! What kind of father am I for them? A father who takes off for two years and then shows up out of the blue! Not to mention, who shouts at them, then traumatizes them for life by getting shot!"

"And the man who cries during Disney movies with them."

Sherlock draws himself up indignantly. "That was a _one _time thing."

I roll my eyes. "Who _hasn't _cried during Bambi? Sherlock-

"No Tammy. You can talk all you want, but I am not putting you through this anymore. We've known for a while that it's over between us. I think I've known it was over from the moment you saw me kissing Janine. That was the biggest mistake I've made in my life and I shall pay for it every day of my life."

"Sherlock, will you shut up and let me talk?" I demand. "You're doing it again. You're cutting me out and not including me in any of your decisions." He glares at me from his bed. "Well it's true! You don't know how I feel!"

"I've known how you felt for a while. It's obvious."

"Yes, very obvious." I decide to speak what my heart had decided the moment I saw Sherlock bleeding on the floor. "It was very obvious that I wanted a divorce when I screamed to God to let you live! It was very obvious that I wanted a divorce when I helped you escape from the hospital. And it was obvious when I was supporting you the entire time afterwards. I was very, very concerned for you!"

"It's your nature."

"No! It's because I love you!" His eyes bulge and he stares at me in complete shock. "And I never, ever, want to be in love with anyone else but you."

"Oh Tammy, stop it!" he snaps. "You _cannot _still love me! Not after the way I've treated you!"

"I am."

"How can you? I don't even expect you to forgive me!"

"I can't at this moment!" I snap at him. "Sherlock that is going to be something that is going to surface on occasion through our life together. I'm even willing to let you cheat on me again, for a case, _if _you warn me in advance and if there are conditions."

"For God's sake-

"I'm not finished! Now, we have a full month of working this out together."

"We're not working anything out."

"Don't argue with me Sherlock. I'm right, I'm always right in this case and you know it! We are going to work this out and one day you and I will look back and tell the children about that you had this stupid thought of divorcing me. Personally, I think it's the emotions that you have buried deep down inside you that causing you to have this mixed up reaction."

Light breaks in my mind. The last time I saw Sherlock this agitated and distant was at Baskerville. I glanced at him, sure enough; he had the same expression on his face. Thank goodness our beds were side by side, so I could do what I had to do.

"I don't understand you at all!" Sherlock is exasperated. "You _should not _be thinking this way at all!" I force myself up to my knees and crawl towards him. Sherlock's eyes flash. "What are you doing?" I bring my hand back and smack him twice. He grabs his cheek. "Why did you-

I don't give him a chance to answer. I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him. Sherlock jumps and his hands move to push me away, but then my stomach touches him and he freezes. I can feel his mind running over a mile a minute. This was the first makeout session that I'd initiated with Sherlock and I felt rather clumsy, but it got better when I felt his resistance breaks down and he returned my kisses. I smiled triumphantly, knowing I had him under _my _spell for a change.

We pull away, breathing heavily, our faces very close together. I inhale and ask. "How could you even _think _of leaving me?"

I bite my lip, studying Sherlock's face for the nerves of steel to shatter. And thank God, they did. Sherlock leaned forward and kissed me again, I reached up and ran my hand up those familiar cheekbones and through his hair. He shuddered and broke the kiss to place kisses all over my face. "I don't know. I don't know."

"You've got to learn to communicate."

He groans. "I'll try."

"I know you will. You started a while ago."

"Tammy, I'm sorry, it's just that," he breaks off and cups my face in his hands. "I was looking at you, finally awake after being unconscious for two days. And I realized…what a cruel man I am to you. You told me that once before, I shrugged it off, but then I got a good look at what I am. I almost caused you to miscarry."

"It wasn't your fault."

"Don't tell me that. I put you through so much stress this past week and a half it's a wonder you haven't died."

"Sherlock," I place a finger on his lips. "shut up. It wasn't your fault, if it was, I would have miscarried when you died. The stress of your death alone should have caused me to miscarry. Now," I pull the covers back and snuggle under them. Sherlock carefully tucks them around my chin. I exhale and place my hands on my stomach and begin drumming my fingers on my growing stomach. "let's talk. First thing first, I don't want a divorce."

"I don't want one either."

"Good!" I jab my finger into his chest. "And if you ever say something horrid like to me again, when I'm carrying your children, I will have John blow your bloody head off! Why'd you say that to me?"

"I guess…I was just so relieved to see that you were going to live that I wanted you to be free to live your life happy and safe. I could see you happy in your new life without me constantly making a mess of it and hurting you."

"That doesn't make sense Sherlock." I point out. "We can't get a divorce anyway. Did you forget how many enemies of yours would try to turn your four children and me, your ex-wife into targets?"

He looks down and mutters. "No."

"Can't hear you."

"No!"

"That isn't love Sherlock, or in someone's warped frame of mind it could be. You would be setting me free from life of hurt and danger, but it would definitely be kinder of you to simply shoot me. It'd be quicker and a lot painless."

"There are ways for you to be safe, security measures and all that."

"A lot of good it did Mary and she's obviously a lot smarter than me. I can't think of anyone who could protect me and the children better than you."

He inhales raggedly. "And I can hurt you more than anyone else."

"You can hurt us emotionally, but not physically. And what about our children? What about them? You can't just abandon them. You're a stupid man Sherlock Holmes. An idiot! A brilliant idiot, but an idiot none the less." He chuckles and rolls his eyes. His hands are shaking and I study his face. Sherlock is very moved by my words, but as always, he's not willing to communicate them to me. "Just cry Sherlock."

He glowers at me. "Why?"

"Because, I think that…this time, everything is honestly going to be ok. You've got so much to be happy and grateful for. You're going to be present for the birth of your two sons. Our marriage is still in one piece, but we've got some work to do, _a lot _of work on both our parts. We have to talk more, take possibilities into consideration, and many more things." Tears begin to fill my eyes. "But most of all, you haven't lost me. And you won't Sherlock." That's when the tears fill his eyes. "I won't deny that I did consider a divorce, but that was only once and it was a very brief thought. But to steal some wise words from Mathew Crawley, "I don't think either of us would be happy with anyone else as long as either of us walked the earth."

A sob, from deep within Sherlock's soul, comes up and out of his mouth. He wraps his arms tightly around me, holding me close as he pours out all of his held back grief, fear and frustration. I cry with him, part of me is shedding all the tears of pain of the past, letting them go, so we can face our future. It was raining ahead of us, but the bright linings around the clouds informed me that sun was going to shine.


	47. 47: Very well loved

Chapter forty-seven

Very well loved

_Two months later,_

"Easy." Sherlock says as he helps me out of Mycroft's limousine. "Ok, are you sure you don't stay in the hospital for the last few weeks?"

"Yes, Sherlock whatever-your-middle-name-is Holmes." I say as he takes ahold of my arms and guides me up the steps. "You're such a worrier."

"I am not!" he says. "There is always a distinct possibility that you could trip on the stairs. You always trip on escalators!"

"Escalators and stairs are different, ones moving and one isn't." I laugh. "Besides, I think I rather like getting treated like a queen with you catering to my every whim."

Sherlock rolls his eyes as he pushes the door open for me. "Don't get used to it."

"Then don't get me pregnant again!"

"I didn't force the issue."

"You know that I can't tell you 'no' and that's a fact!"

Sherlock and Linda giggle at our argument. Linda crosses her arms, mirroring her father. "Mommy looks pretty."

I groan as she pats my stomach. "I feel fat."

Sherlock rolls his eyes. "You look beautiful."

"Beautifully fat then."

"You look very well loved," he tilts my chin up. "and you are very, very loved."

I smile as Sherlock kisses me gently. The last two months had been very interesting to say the least. Sherlock and I talked, and I mean _really talked_. We talked about everything, our fears, our hopes, our dreams and our expectations. We shared the secrets that we'd been keeping from each other and we worked to resolve it between us.

Certain limitations had been set, like if Sherlock needed to 'cheat' on me again, or if I needed to 'seduce' someone. I _was not _looking forward to that, but, if it were for a case, everything would be discussed beforehand and reported afterwards. Nothing like sharing beds or showers and definitely _no _sex whatsoever!

Now, things were almost back to normal, Sherlock and I still had our little spats now and then. But we were pretty much back to our courtship/first marriage days. A groan from the kids caused us to pull apart. I turn away and ring the doorbell.

Sherlock snorts and pushes the door open. "Come on, we don't need to wait for the butler. He's a dithering old fool anyway."

I shook him a look. "Sherlock!"

"Sorry Mom." I look down to see Sherlock taking his finger out of his mouth. He'd been biting his fingers lately.

Sherlock Sr. laughs at his son's apologetic face. "Don't worry, mummy was reprimanding me." I smile at them and Sherlock frowns at me. "What?"

"I just love when you let your emotional guard down with the children. It's so beautiful to see."

He says nothing as he reaches for my coat. I tremble as his fingers brush my neck. "Meet me in the library later?" he whispers in my ear.

"No."

"Come on." He begs quietly. "I'll make it worth your while."

I laugh. "No."

We actually haven't been intimate together; Sherlock was so concerned about hurting the baby that nothing John or I said would persuade him to make love to me. He insisted on waiting until I'd delivered the twins before we do _anything _like that. Still, there was quite a bit of touching, petting and kissing between us.

"Please." He presses a kiss on the pulse point of my neck. "It's going to be such fun." The doorbell rings and Sherlock groans. "That _has _to be John. He's the _only _one who rings when I'm getting ready to-

"Children are present." I remind him.

Sherlock opens the door and snaps at poor John. "You really have the most awful timing."

John frowns. "Hello to you as well." He looks at me and shakes his head. "He was having one of his handsy moments wasn't he?"

"Yes, he was." Mary comes in behind John, looking very sober faced. Things have been rather difficult with them lately. Mary says that John won't talk to her, she tries, but he won't say a word to her. I keep encouraging her to give him time. Poor John has been through so much. I clear my throat. "Right, Sherlock let's go find your parents."

Sherlock groans. "We actually _want _to find them?"

"Yes!"

He inhales and exhales deeply as he steps beside me. "And why are we doing this again?"

"Because we're both out of the hospital and I'm going to give birth in a few weeks. I think that's reason enough to get together. Besides, they want to see the children."

"Grandma! Grandpa!" Sherlock and Linda run towards their grandparents. Mycroft comes around the corner and they both let out a blood curdling scream before making these positively ridiculous faces at him. They couldn't have been more surprised if Frankenstein had come around the corner! Everyone, especially Mycroft, looked positively baffled by their reactions.

I look at Sherlock and find him attempting to keep from laughing. "Oh, you!" I snap. "What did you-

He laughs. "I didn't do anything!"

"I'll bet!" I fight to keep from laughing. Sherlock laughs at me, causing me to burst out laughing. I cannot help but smile as he presses several kisses to my forehead. I turn aside from him and address Mycroft. "Mycroft," Sherlock kisses my neck and I jump. "I am so… sorry."

He nods. "Accepted Tammy." He glowers at Sherlock. "But it's not for you to say."

Sherlock's lips still on my neck, he pulls away, glowering at Mycroft before he helps me down the steps. "Why does everyone suspect I'm the one who's doing something?"

"Maybe it's because you're the child here and you act every inch of one." I hug Mr. and Mrs. Holmes. "Hello. Thank you for inviting us."

"It was our pleasure."

Sherlock stiffly hugs them. He initiated the hugs, so it was a start. I could see that his parents were equally surprised by his actions. I hug Mycroft around the shoulder. "Hello as well."

"Hello." He looks at Sherlock expectantly. "Hello brother."

Sherlock just gives him a cold stare. I clear my throat and glance around. "Will everyone excuse me for a moment?"

"Where are you going?" Sherlock asks.

"I'm going to investigate the kitchen for something to eat, if no one minds."

"Go on dear, help yourself." Mrs. Holmes waves a carefree hand. "When I was pregnant with Sherlock, I had the strangest cravings."

"Don't discuss it with her." Sherlock says. "She woke me up today at 2:00 in the morning to go get her a bag of potato chips!"

"I was hungry."

"You fell asleep after I got them."

"You took too long. Well anyway, thank you for the food suggestion. That sounds positively delicious." I waddle towards the kitchen. "I'll be back as soon as I find something."

"Take your time dear, the kitchen is yours."

"I will. I wonder if there's some ketchup as well." Sherlock falls in step beside me. I smile. "I am not completely incapable of finding myself a bag of potato chips and ketchup."

"You're seriously not going to eat those together are you? May I remind you that things that something's are best eaten separately. Honestly, some of the things you eat are positively disgusting together!" A huge cramp seized me and I grabbed his hand as I let out a gasp. "Tammy?" Sherlock's tone instantly turned from complaining to immediate concern. "Are you all right?"

I inhale deeply and announce very calmly. "My water broke."

"Oh God! John!" Sherlock shouts in terror. "John!" I can't help but smile at Sherlock's panic. "What do I do?!"

I laugh. "Calm down first, everything's fine."

"Everything is fine?! Everything is not fine!" John finally comes in the room and Sherlock shouts at him. "Where the hell have you been?" John jumps in surprise at Sherlock's outburst. "Tammy's having a baby and you're…racing a turtle!"

"I'm sorry John." I laugh lightly. "He's going to be a bit impatient. I don't need you; I've got a wait to go. My water _just _broke; we don't have to worry for a few more hours."

John nods. "Right. I'll see you later."

"Later?!" Sherlock shouts. "She's in labor!"

"You're a detective," John comments as he turns and walks away. "I don't have to worry about anything."

"Wait a minute!" Sherlock bellows. "You can't just walk away and leave her like this!"

"Sherlock, shut up!" I laugh. "I'm fine. Alexander and Scott aren't going to be here for a few more hours."

"Well…what am I supposed to do?!" Sherlock demands.

I shrug. "Help me find the potato chips and ketchup."

"GOD!" He shouts at me. "YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS!"

I laugh and kiss him. "I am _very _serious. Come on, let's go." I let out a groan as a small labor pain hits me. Sherlock grabs ahold of my hands. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

He moves to pick me up and I step away. "Don't you dare touch me Sherlock, walking helps." I turn around and call loudly. "Mycroft!"

"What?" He says as he comes around the corner. "I heard all this shouting."

I laugh. "Will you take Sherlock out for a smoke?"

"What!?"

I laugh. "Just one cigarette, this once."

Sherlock stares at me in shock. "What? John!?" He shouts. "Tammy is clearly not well! She's just-

I cover his mouth with my hand. "Please, settle down."

"How can I settle down when-

"I'm fine. We'll go straight to the hospital after dinner."

"After dinner?!"

Mycroft places his hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "Come on brother. She'll be fine, she's done this before."

"Oh!" I call. "Ask Mary if she'll give me a hand. I suspected I was in labor so I brought a change of clothes."

"Tammy," Sherlock snaps. "this clearly qualifies as a lack of communication on your side!"

"I'm a mother. I was suspicious but I wasn't certain. Besides, you wouldn't have let us come here anyway."

"Tammy." Sherlock is now pleading with me. "Please, let's call an ambulance and get you to the hospital."

"Mycroft, get him out of here, now, please."

Sherlock protests as Mycroft drags him out of my sight. I blow him a kiss before turning and heading into the kitchen in pursuit of my snack.


	48. 48: Who'd have guessed?

Chapter forty-eight

Who'd have guessed?

"Oh for God's sake Tammy," Mycroft says. "will you go to the hospital? It's not often I side with Sherlock, but I can't stand this much longer."

Sherlock nods anxiously. "Tammy, listen to Mycroft, please."

"I'm not listening to either one of you." I reach for the tartar sauce and squirt it onto my plate. "I actually like the combination of tartar sauce and potato chips, it's delicious." I let out a sharp cry as another cramp seizes me. Sherlock reaches for his coke, his hands shaking. I turn to John. "I think it's time now."

Sherlock drops his coke in terror. "Oh God." He jumps up and hurries over to my side. "What do I do? Mycroft, call for help."

"Right."

"Wrong. It's just time for me to head on upstairs." I say as I latch onto his hands. "Help me up Sherlock. You're going to take me upstairs and put me to bed."

"Ordinarily I would be rejoicing about such a proposition but I'm not. Tammy, please, go to the hospital."

"No."

"I'm begging you."

"No Sherlock." I pull myself up and begin moving towards the living room exit. Everyone had moved lunch into the living room so I could lounge on my favorite couch. "I'm having my babies here."

"May I remind you that they're my children too?"

"John, you and Mary can follow up in fifteen minutes. Sherlock will help me get ready."

John nods, unconcerned. "Ok."

"Why is everyone so calm?!" Sherlock shouts. "Why?!"

"Because they're not the father." I laugh at him.

His eyes narrow. "I do believe you're enjoying this."

"Oh Sherlock." I kiss his cheek. "if you think that I'm not enjoying this, then you're very much mistaken. I missed your reaction to the birth of Sherlock and Linda. And now, I have the pleasure of knowing how you're reacting and frankly, you're not taking it well."

Sherlock helps me inside the elevator; he punches the button twice in his nervousness. "I can't believe this. Have you no sympathy for me?"

"You sound like Mrs. Bennett in 'Pride and Prejudice,' always complaining about her nerves."

"Do I have any nerves?" he demands. "I don't know! They're worn completely to a frazzle!"

I roll my eyes as the elevator door dings open. "You really are a drama king Sherlock." He opens his mouth and I cut him off. "You're not going to get me to change my mind. I've made up my mind to have alexander and Scott here, and this is exactly what's going to happen!"

Sherlock complained the entire time he helped me out of my clothes and into my nightdress. Mrs. Holmes had the servants have the bed prepared and ready. Then ten minutes later John and Mary came up to find me in the bed. Sherlock was refusing to move from my bed side the entire time John and Mary checked my vitals.

John nods. "Right. I think these two will be ready to be born in a few hours. All right Sherlock, out you go."

Sherlock stares at him in complete shock. "What!? You're kidding!"

Mary shakes her head. "Ancient tradition. Can't see the babies or the mother until _after _the labor period is over."

Sherlock is adamant. "No. I'm not going."

"Come on Sherlock." John says.

"No."

I smile and run my hands through his hair. "Sherlock, come on. You need to go now."

"You're throwing me out?"

"Yes."

"Now you get one thing straight!" Sherlock shouts. "I am not leaving your side!"

"Fine." I lock eyes with John over Sherlock's shoulder. "Go find me Operation Dumbo Drop."

Sherlock frowns. "What the Hell is that?!"

"A movie. Your parents have a copy of it somewhere."

"A movie!? What do you want with that? Ah!" Sherlock whirls around, a hypodermic needle hanging from the underside of his arm. "John!" he stares at him in shock. "Did you just," he shakes his head as his vision begins to blur. "oh no, no, no!"

I blow him a kiss. "You're going to need to relax." I let out a cry and flopped back onto the bed. "So I can…concentraaaattteee!"

Sherlock's voice began to slur. "Whaat do I do?"

John lifts him up and guides him to the door. "Just go wait outside Sherlock. We'll get you when she's holding Scott and Alexander in her arms."

* * *

This labor was a labor of love. Poor Sherlock was on the other side, half-drugged. But once my cries began to get louder on the other side of the door, did Sherlock begin to shake of the grogginess. I could hear him pacing, arguing with his father, mother and Mycroft on the other side of the door. He finally stopped arguing and began frantically pacing the hallway. Then, the moment I'd been waiting for. I held Scott and Alexander Holmes in my arms, the labor was over, John and Mary had checked everything over and the father was finally allowed in.

Mary went out first and John followed. "Sherlock?"

Sherlock shoved John out of the way and comes into the room, slamming the door behind him. Scott and alexander let out a loud wail. Sherlock froze in place and stood a foot away from the bed, starring at us. Sherlock makes quite a funny picture. He's sweating, his shirt is rumpled and out of his pants. He looks the epitome image of the worried father.

"Hi." He says a little nervously. "You ok?"

I smile broadly. "Yes. Don't you want to see your sons?" Sherlock looks frozen in place for a moment. "Sherlock?" he then sinks to his knees, his expression distant. "Sherlock?" No response. "Sherlock?" He exhales and leans forward. I carefully shift Scott into my other arm, grab the nearby water bottle and shake the water at him.

"Ah!" Sherlock bolts up and looks around. "What happened?"

"You fainted."

He looks indignant as he brushes the water out of his hair. "I did _not _faint."

I roll my eyes. "Sure. Come here."

Sherlock approaches and sits on the edge of the bed. "You ok? You're all right aren't you?"

"I'm fine. Now, I believe I deserve a proper kiss after this." Sherlock nods and leaned forward. I smile as he kisses me, his lips carefully exploring mine. Then, he softly breaks the kiss to look down at his sons. "Why don't you hold Scott?"

His eyes widen. "No. they're…too small."

"Sherlock. Come on." I sit up and gently maneuver Scott into his arms.

Sherlock looks positively terrified. "He's…too small." Scott lets out a cry. "See? He wants his mother!"

"He's baby. Now you, stop acting like one and start acting like a father!"

Sherlock frowns. "If you tell anyone about what happened-

"Who's going to believe me?" I ask as I adjust his hands. "Besides, you know I always keep your reputation sparkling brightly."

He nods and leans forward to kiss me, but the door opens. We look as Linda and Sherlock peer in the door, their eyes are wide. I look to Sherlock. "I hope they weren't outside for this."

He shakes his head. "No, they watched a movie downstairs." He smiles and jerks his head. "Come on in, see your brothers." He turns to me. "Charles should be here in about five minutes."

"You're really quite wonderful Sherlock." Linda and Sherlock peer at Scott and Alexander, their eyes wide with curiosity. "Look at us Sherlock." I whisper. "Just look at us. One big happy family. Who could have ever guessed?"


	49. 49: Little things

Chapter forty-nine

Little things

"Careful, careful." Sherlock said as he helps me out of the taxi. He then reaches for Scott while I hold onto Alexander. "Everything ok?"

I nod. "Yes. I'm fine. Sherlock, you're going to die before your time if you keep up like this."

"Like what?"

"Like an old mother hen!"

Sherlock scowls indignantly at me. "I am not. And I am not going to die before my time."

"You passed out when they were born."

"I did not!"

"You did too!"

"I just…sat down unexpectedly."

"On the floor?"

"Yes." He glowers at me. "And if you dare tell Mycroft, I will say you were lying."

"I haven't told anyone, not even John. You know I wouldn't tell him anything like that. Besides, you two have to work together, remember?"

Sherlock nods. "Yes. Thanks to Magnussen." I let out a slight shudder and Sherlock apologizes. "Sorry."

"I'm fine."

"I've often wondered if you cried about…what happened, that night."

"No." I state firmly.

"Just asking. It was a traumatic experience."

"Which I don't remember."

Sherlock clears his throat and glances around. "Why don't we eat out tonight?"

I stare at him. "Why?"

He smiles. "I just thought it'd be nice."

I frown. "Sherlock, we've got four children, you and I added to the mix, that makes six. You wouldn't just as that for any reason. Are you up to something?"

He smirks. "Yes. In fact," he glances at his watch. "we have to be there in about forty minutes."

"Sherlock!"

He laughs. "Come on, I'll take care of the kids, you take a shower, fix your pretty face and I'll see you."

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise Tammy," he says gently. "I'd rather not tell you."

I exhale. "Fine. I'll play along."

"And would you mind wearing that little black dress of yours?"

I stare at him. "Sherlock, I had a twins two weeks ago, I _do not _look good at all."

"You're perfect to me." Sherlock says softly, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. "Please, for me?"

I exhale. "Fine. But this had better be good."

I surveyed my appearance in the mirror and shook my head. I needed to loose some weight. I had a small tummy and it showed in this dress. I grabbed a coat and put it on, glad that it covered me up. I came down the stairs. "Sherlock?"

"We're down here," he calls up. "waiting at the door."

"I am really dying of curiosity." I say as I come down the stairs. "What could possibly be," my voice dies as Sherlock turns around, revealing that he's in a suit. And when I mean suit, I mean, the tie, the rose in the lapel and a freshly pressed…light pink pocket-handkerchief. The children are dressed in their best clothes and my head swims as I reach for the banister. "oh no." I slap my head. "Our anniversary!" Sherlock approaches me with a flower corsage. "Sherlock, I am so, so sorry."

He kisses me, shutting me up. I tremble as he places his hands on my waist, pulling me against him. I wrap my hands on his side, blinking dreamily as he pulled away. He smiles. "The best way to remember your anniversary is to forget it once."

"I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter."

"It does to me." Guilt swamps me. "I really let you have it when you forgot Valentine's Day. And you're-

"You have four children to take care of when I'm not around. You just live, day to day, it's logical for you to forget." He holds up the corsage. "May I?"

"Yes."

Sherlock pins it on my coat, his eyes studying my reaction as he lowers his hand from my chest. "I'll push the stroller, you can hold onto my arm, Linda and Sherlock will walk beside us."

"All right." We get Scott and Alexander carefully down the stairs and walk down the street. I smile. "I feel like we're leading a parade. Where are we going?"

"Angelo's." I gasp. "He's got a table reserved for us."

"Sherlock, really? I haven't been there in months."

"I know." He smirks. "He's actually letting us have the whole restaurant to ourselves for an hour."

I shake my head. "That's just…too much."

He laughs. "He wants to see the kids. He's really looking forward to seeing them." He whispers. "He might go on a bit about you, so be prepared."

Thank goodness for Sherlock's warning, Angelo praised me so much that I was a bright red. He loved the children; he kept Sherlock and Linda busy with his funny faces. He gave Sherlock and me sometime 'alone.' We sat snuggled close together, while the twins thankfully, slept on for most part. Dinner was delicious as always. We finished dinner just as the twins woke up, protesting for their dinner.

The walk back home was wonderful. Sherlock insisted on taking care of the twins while I put Linda and Sherlock to bed. They were so tired, the moment they were in bed, they fell asleep.

I came down the stairs to find Sherlock had put Scott and Alexander to bed, and was now drawing the curtain that he'd put up in our room to give us some privacy. He glances at me as he begins to unbutton his shirt. I flush and look down for a moment; I remove my earrings and look up to see myself in the full-length mirror. I place my hand on my stomach, figuring out how much I'll have to loose to fit into this dress again.

Sherlock steps towards me, placing a hand on my stomach as some music begins to softly play behind us. I look up at him as he looks down at me. My heart pounds in my chest at the intense look in his eyes. "You're perfect Tammy." He wraps his arms around me. "Perfect in every way."

"Thank you." I lean back against his chest as I recognize Il Volo singing 'Little things' in the background. "Do I really talk in my sleep Sherlock? You mentioned it a while back."

He laughs. "You actually do."

"What do I say?"

"Oh, lots of things."

"Like what?"

"Well, you sing at times, mainly Bernadette peters." I laugh. "You mutter things like movie quotes or poetry, or….you call my name."

"I do?"

"Yes," his breath is warm on my neck. "you sound like you're…asking for something."

It takes a moment for me to figure out that Sherlock is definitely giving me a subtle hint that maybe I needed him. We still hadn't been intimate in anyway yet, and frankly I was wondering what had held him back. "Sherlock," I whisper as heat engulfs my face. "we…had an appointment in the library." He slowly turns me towards him. "You never," I look up at him, the desire in his eyes threatening to choke me. "will you…please…make love to me?"

The moment the words leave my lips, Sherlock covers my mouth with his. I groan as he lifts me up into his arms. Heat clenches into my stomach as I realize how much I've been wanting this moment. "I've been waiting for you to say those words for days."

I touch his face. "You could have told me."

He shook his head as he moved towards the bed. "This time around…I wanted it to be on your terms."

I frown. "What?"

"On our two wedding nights, I really initiated the first move. I wanted you to make the first move this time."

"That was…really, considerate of you." I cup his face in my hands. "Well…I'd like for you to take me on your terms… Mr. Holmes."

"Your wish is my command… Mrs. Holmes."


	50. 50: Merry Christmas

Chapter fifty

Merry Christmas

_Ten days later,_

"Oh, dear God, it's only two o'clock. It's been Christmas Day for at least a week now." Sherlock rolls his eyes as Mycroft continues complaining. "How can it only be two o'clock? I'm in agony."

Sherlock resumes reading his newspaper as Mrs. Holmes asks. "Mikey, is this your laptop?"

I snicker as she points down to a gray laptop on the table. It is half-hidden by a cutting board, which has several potatoes and their skin on it. Sherlock glances up at me and winks.

"On which depends the security of the free world, yes," Mycroft says rather sarcastically. "and you've got potatoes on it."

"Well," she points out. "you shouldn't leave it lying around if it's so important."

"Why are we doing this?" Mycroft asks. "We _never_ do this."

Mrs. Holmes groans in aggravation. "We are here because Sherlock is home from hospital; Tammy is back from the hospital with two lovely baby boys. I've got four grandchildren and we are all very happy."

Mycroft looks up at her with an insincere smile. "Am I happy too? I haven't checked."

Mrs. Holmes picks up a cracker basket. "Behave, Mike."

"Mycroft is the name you gave me," he points out. 'if you could possibly struggle all the way to the end."

"Oh do stop it Mycroft, you're beginning to sound like Scrooge." I dry my hands and walk over to Sherlock to peer over his shoulder. "It's Christmas, do lighten up a bit." Sherlock grabs ahold of my waist and pulls me into his lap without batting an eye. "Whoa!" He smirks at the look of surprise on my face. "And it's a _very merry _Christmas indeed."

Mycroft groans. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Shut up Mycroft." Sherlock, Mrs. Holmes and I chime in unison.

Sherlock wraps his arms around my waist. "Oh he's just jealous that he doesn't have four children and a delectable wife to come home to."

"For God's sake Sherlock," Mycroft says. "you make her sound like she's a dessert."

"Well, you've never tasted her." My face flushes red as Santa's hat and Sherlock adds hastily. "Well, you are the best kisser."

Bill walks over and holds out a glass of punch to Mrs. Holmes. "Mrs. Holmes?"

She takes the glass from him. "Oh! Thank you, dear." She looks up at him. "Not absolutely sure why you're here."

"I invited him." Sherlock says casually.

I add. "He has nowhere else to go."

"I'm his protégé, Mrs. Holmes. When he dies, I get all his stuff, and his job."

"No." Sherlock says pointedly. "If and when I decide to die, my stuff and my job go to my children."

"Oh. Well, I help out a bit."

"Closer."

Bill, however, will not stop talking. "If he does get murdered or something-

Sherlock reaches for his newspaper. "Probably stop talking now."

Bill nods. "Okay."

Mycroft turns to Sherlock. "Lovely when you bring your friends round."

"Stop it, you, somebody's put a bullet in my boy ... and if I ever find out who, I shall turn absolutely monstrous."

I drop my gaze and look at Sherlock, who's still reading the newspaper. "Are you going to let me go?"

"Nope."

"Ok."

"Ah. This was for Mary." Mrs. Holmes turns and walks away the item for Mary. "I'll be back in a minute."

Sherlock lowers his left hand and looks at his watch. I glance at it and shoot him a questioning look. "7 minutes and 37 seconds." He whispers as he turns the page.

I pat his shoulders. "Come on, let me up."

"Can't you just sit here for a moment?"

I shake my head. "No. I've got to go." I get up, causing Sherlock to drop his paper. He reaches out and grabs me around the waist, tugging me into the center of his lap. I gasp loudly and shriek as Sherlock moves against me. I flush a bright red as I pull free from his grip and stumble towards the sink. I close my eyes tightly. "You are…horrid."

He chuckles loudly and Mycroft speaks up. "Sherlock let's get a breath of fresh air."

"Thank you Mycroft." I exhale. "Please, get him out of my hair for a bit."

"Out of your hair," Mycroft asks slyly. "or away from other parts of you?"

"All of the above. Go!"

"Right, come on brother dear," Mycroft pats Sherlock's shoulder. "leave the ladies to their work."

Sherlock groans and follows him out. He whispers over my ear as I plunge my hands into the water. "I'll see you later."

I exhale and study the dishes. I wash and dry all the dishes. I go to check on Sherlock and Linda who are playing in the library with their toys. Scott and Alexander are in the same room with Mary and Mr. Holmes, so everything is all right. John, he was pacing outside the living room, probably preparing to tell Mary that he was going to reconcile with her.

I'm suddenly cold, so I turn and walk towards the hall to get my coat from the closet. Mrs. Holmes huffs. "Tammy. I think Mycroft and Sherlock are smoking outside."

I peer out the window, and sure enough, they are. I nod at her. "They are."

Mrs. Holmes whips the front door open and her tone is very cross. "Are you two smoking?"

The boys rapidly spin round to face her, holding their cigarettes behind their backs as they look guiltily at her. "No!" Mycroft says.

"It was Mycroft." Sherlock says.

She gives them a suspicious look, and then partly closes the door. Sherlock is looking every inch the naughty younger brother, who thinks he's gotten away with being bad and he is feeling very smug about it. I watch as he blows out a long stream of smoke in the direction of the door.

"I'll take care of this Mrs. Holmes." I put my coat on and smirk. "I'm going to love this."

"Have fun dear."

I open the door, Sherlock's eyes widen and he chokes on the smoke. Mycroft laughs as I walk towards Sherlock. "I told you it would be just your luck to have her walk out on you."

"It's Christmas day." I move to stand by Sherlock. "Just this once."

Sherlock inhales deeply. "God…you _never _cease to surprise me."

"Oh I hope I don't." I smile and wrap my arm around his waist. "How else am I supposed to be the most fascinating woman you've ever known?"

"Indeed," he leans forward and kisses me fondly on the mouth. "you are the most fascinating woman."

Mycroft wanders towards the door, and then slowly turns back again. "I have, by the way, a job offer I should like you to decline."

Sherlock nods. "I decline your kind offer."

"I shall pass on your regrets."

Sherlock's curiosity gets the better of him. "What was it?"

MI6, they want to place you back into Eastern Europe. An undercover assignment that would prove fatal to you in," my head shoots up in alarm. "I think, about six months."

Sherlock lowers his cigarette and looks at Mycroft in surprise. "Then why don't you want me to take it?"

Mycroft studies him. "It's tempting ... but on balance you have more utility closer to home."

"Utility." Sherlock snorts. "How do I have utility?"

Mycroft shrugs slightly. "Here be dragons." He coughs, before frowning at his cigarette. "This isn't agreeing with me. I'm going in."

He drops the cigarette on the path, stamps it out, then turns and walks back towards the house. "You need low tar." Sherlock says with a slight sneer in his voice. "You still smoke like a beginner."

Mycroft stops before he reaches the door. He pauses for a moment. "Also, your loss would break my heart."

Sherlock had just started inhale deeply on his cigarette and now he chokes and coughs for a few seconds before turning to look at his brother. I shake my head and smile broadly at Mycroft. Obviously, both brothers care more for than the other than they'd like to admit. "What the hell am I supposed to say to that?!" Sherlock demands.

Mycroft turns and smiles broadly. "Merry Christmas?"

Sherlock frowns. "You hate Christmas."

"Yes." He smiles a little. "Perhaps there was something in the punch."

"Clearly." He states. "Go and have some more."

"Mycroft," I ask as he starts to go up the steps. "may I have a cigarette?"

Mycroft and Sherlock do a double take at my request. "Oh come on!" Sherlock says as I hold out my hand for one. "Tammy! You are not serious."

"Please?" Mycroft holds one out to a cigarette to me and lights it. "Thank you."

Mycroft studies me nervously. "You know what to do with it?"

"Not really." I turn and walk towards Sherlock. "But it can't be too difficult."

I inhale deeply and immediately begin coughing on the smoke. "Tammy, put the cigarette out. Please." I go to inhale it and he grabs my wrist. "Please?"

I smile and tilt my head to the side. "Will you put yours out too?"

Sherlock frowns at me. "Is this a plot?"

"Maybe." I lean forward. "Every time you light up a cigarette, I'm going to light up one too. It's my Christmas present to you."

Sherlock frowns. "I've got a funny feeling that this is a Christmas present I don't want."

I exhale deeply and wrap my arms around his waist. Sherlock holds onto me tightly. "Getting scared?"

I nod. "A little."

"Everything is going to be ok."

"I hope so." I close my eyes and hold him tighter. "I hope so."

"You don't have to come."

"I do." I shiver slightly. "I want to see the man who made me suffer for so many months-

"Days."

"Well it felt like months!" Sherlock laughs. "I want to see him get what's coming to him."

"And he will." Sherlock assures me. "I promise you, he will."


	51. 51: Going towards the dragon's lair

Chapter fifty-one

Going towards the dragon's lair

Sherlock's watch beeps and we pull away. "The game is on." I say as he takes my hand and we walk towards the cottage.

"John says that."

"Well, I don't have a punch line yet Mr. Holmes! I shall have to think of one!"

"You've got one. You're the only person in the world who says 'Mr. Holmes' just right."

We enter the flat and our first stop is the library where we see Mary slumped in a couch. "Mary," John is very concerned. "can you hear me?"

"Don't drink Mary's tea." Sherlock says before briskly walking away. He turns and grabs his scarf from the peg as he goes. John stares at his retreating back then looks towards his wife again. Sherlock calls loudly over his shoulder. "Or the punch!"

"What…is going on?" John asks me.

I keep a smile back. "Ask Sherlock, he can tell you better than I. But she's fine; she's going to a little groggy when she wakes up."

"What happened?"

"Sherlock drugged her."

John's eyes flash and he follows me to the kitchen where we Mrs. Holmes is asleep in the armchair where Sherlock had been sitting earlier. Mycroft is slumped over in his chair with his head on the kitchen table and his eyes closed.

"Sherlock?" John asks as Sherlock checks his mother's breathing. Bill is standing nearby. "Did you just drug my pregnant wife?"

Sherlock checks Mycroft's breathing. "Don't worry. Wiggins is an excellent chemist."

"I calculated your wife's dose myself." Bill assures John. "Won't affect the little one. I'll keep an eye on her."

Sherlock begins putting his scarf on. "He'll monitor their recovery. It's more or less his day job."

"I can't believe this! And Tammy…you're involved this time as well!" John stares at us in shock. "What the hell have you done?"

Sherlock takes a moment to reply. "A deal with the devil." He turns to me. "Are you sure you want to come?"

"Yes?"

He grips my shoulders and studies my face carefully. "There's still time to back out."

"I'm sure Sherlock, I want to go."

John turns away from us. "Oh, Jesus." john goes into the sitting room and sees Sherlock's father on the sofa, asleep as well. "Sherlock," he calls from the other room. "please tell me you haven't just gone out of your mind?"

Sherlock takes Mycroft's laptop from the table, pulling it out from under his sleeping form. "I'd rather keep you guessing." I start laughing and Sherlock looks at me, his eyes dancing with merriment. The sound of an approaching helicopter can be heard and we both Sherlock looks up towards the ceiling. "Ah, there's our lift." He holds out his arm to me and smiles. "Shall we?"

The doorbell rings and I nod as I accept his arm. "And that'll be Charles and Molly, right on time."

Sherlock opens the door and pushes past them. "Hello." I say quickly. "Sorry, we've got to dash." Charles and Molly look at us in confusion as I give them each a quick hug. "Merry Christmas you two!"

"Tammy," Charles grabs hold of my elbow. "what is going on?"

I look up to the sky as the helicopter begins to fly low. John squeezes past us, muttering under his breath. "I don't have time to explain, but it very, very urgent that you two look after our children. Please, we will explain everything later, but there is a whole lot riding on us."

Charles releases me. "Ok, go on, save the world."

"Be careful!" Molly calls after us.

I go down the path, following John and Sherlock. John holds the gate open for me as the helicopter begins to land. "Thank you."

Sherlock looks at John. "Coming?"

"Where?"

"Do you want your wife to be safe?"

"Yeah, of course I do." He says dryly. "Don't you?"

"My choice John."

"Good, because this is going to be incredibly dangerous." Sherlock begins speaking quickly. "One false move and we'll have betrayed the security of the United Kingdom and be in prison for high treason. Magnussen is quite simply the most dangerous man we've ever encountered, and the odds are comprehensively stacked against us."

John stares at the two of us in indignation. "But it's Christmas."

Sherlock smiles broadly. "I feel the same." He turns and sees John's expression and his smile instantly fades. "Oh, you mean it's actually Christmas." I laugh at him. "Did you bring your gun as I suggested?"

John stares at him. "Why would I bring my gun to your parents' house for Christmas dinner?!"

"Because Sherlock told you to?" I suggest.

Sherlock holds out John's coat to him. "Is it in your coat?"

"Yes." He says testily as he snatches the coat from Sherlock.

"Off we go, then."

We begin to walk towards the helicopter. "Where are we going?" John asks.

"Appledore." Sherlock hands me a piece of gum. "Chew it."

"I hate gum."

"I don't care, chew it."

"Why?"

"Because, that way your ears won't plug up."

"You could have just said so!"

Sherlock rolls his eyes and helps me inside the helicopter. "Last chance, to back out." He says loudly, his hands on my waist. "Are you sure?"

I shake my head. "You're not talking me out of this Sherlock! I'm going!"

He swings himself into the helicopter and pulls me into his side. "Ok, but I did try to warn you."

I nod. "I understand. But I want to do this."

Sherlock exhales. "I guess I've got to get used to this side of you, won't I?"

"Yes, and you're going to learn to like it."

"I'll like it more when you've actually got some self-defense down."

"Hey, I'm a good shot and you know it."

He shrugs. "Tolerable, now chew that gum."

I stick it in my mouth and begin chewing it as the helicopter takes off. "You said I shoot straighter than John."

Sherlock glowers at me and John glowers at him. "You're my wife; I'm entitled to lie a little when I'm flattering you."

I lean back, rubbing my arms. "And those are the kind of lies I don't mind, because I love it."

"You two," John breathes out. "are absolutely…insane."

"I was thinking, we're rather a perfect match." Sherlock points out. "If you think about it hard enough."

"I know! That's the insane part about this whole thing. The two of you…Mr. and Mrs. Holmes are working together on a case! The world had better look out now."

Sherlock shrugs. "Well, I can always get keep her pregnant, so she won't get too involved in dangerous cases."

"I can't believe you just said that."

"And not to mention it's a semi-easy task for me to accomplish," he says pointedly. "since you can't refuse me."

I cover my eyes. "I cannot believe we're having this conversation in front of John."

"He's a married man; nothing's going to shock him. But it is the wrong time and the wrong place." He points out. "Now, we need to be quiet and prepare ourselves…for we're about to enter the dragon's lair."


	52. 52: The truth about the vaults

Chapter fifty-two

The truth about the vaults

The estate is magnificent, but definitely not one I'd like to own. It's too white and glassy. The living room, I guess, had a huge glass window that I wouldn't like to clean. Inside, I could see Magnussen, sitting there, drinking something. My heart is pounding as I follow behind John and Sherlock, so I don't appear too attached to him. We have to go through a garden to get up to him. The guards don't bother to check us for a weapon, so I guess it must be part of Sherlock's deal.

The guards leave the room after several moments. Magnussen studies Sherlock before lifting his glass. "I would offer you a drink but it's very rare and expensive." He drinks from it. Sherlock turns and sits down on the couch, a couple of feet to Magnussen's right. Sherlock sighs in contentment and pats his right side, asking me to sit beside him. I sit uneasily down beside him on the pristine, white, leather. He puts the laptop down between us as he crosses his legs and looks to the other side of the room.

"Oh." Sherlock says calmly. It was you."

I look up to see a video projected onto a glass wall. It's not really a video; it's actually the footage of Sherlock rescuing John from the bonfire. "Yes, of course." John glances over his shoulder and then does a double take as he realizes what he's watching. "Very hard to find a pressure point on you, Mr. Holmes." Sherlock doesn't answer him. "The drugs thing I never believed for a moment." John is now walking closer to the wall, staring at the footage. "Anyway, you wouldn't care if it was exposed, would you?" Sherlock tilts his head and shrugs. "But look how you care about John Watson. Your damsel in distress." He looks at me, his cold, dead, eyes studying. "Or so I thought."

John turns to Magnussen, his voice tight and furious. "You…put me in a fire ... for leverage?"

"Oh, I'd never let you burn, Doctor Watson." He puts his glass onto the table. "I had people standing by. Other times," the footage changes. "it was necessary to inflict a little pain to be certain about leverage."

_Sherlock! _My heart jumps in my throat at the sound of my voice. I look up at the footage now playing to see the burglar, violating me. I cover my mouth, fighting back the tears as I watch the scene playing out before me. _Help! _

"Turn it off." Sherlock snaps out. 'Now!"

"Why? Your wife seems to be so interested in it."

The blood drains away from my face as I watch the man touch me, slap me, kiss me and do things to me that I'd only allowed Sherlock to do. Even then, Sherlock had always asked my permission because I was so timid with such things. The footage switched to Sherlock bursting into the room. His face went white to red in an instant. He immediately attacked the man, viciously beating him up before Greg orders him to look after me. I was, in a very unstable condition. Screaming, crying hysterically, and choking on my tears as I held onto him. Sherlock held me close as he attempted to soothe me from my pain. I was bleeding and I couldn't understand how I missed seeing all those cuts.

"A shame you killed my guard, he would have wanted to have her again."

"Oh God." John breathes out. "Tammy."

"It's all right John, its over." Sherlock reaches for my hand and I look at him, panic surging in my chest. My hands flounder for a few seconds. "No." Sherlock says firmly. "Don't think about it."

"But," I shake my head in confusion. "how can…even want me?" Tears begin to fill my eyes. "I-I'm dirty and-

"I love you. And to me, you're still perfect and pure as you were the day I married you." He leans over and kisses me gently, silently assuring me that everything is all right. I'm here, with him, nothing's going to happen to me. I relax slowly as his hand curls around my trembling hands.

The video gets turned off and I exhale deeply at the sound of silence. Sherlock pulls away studying my face intently, his eyes silently probing my soul. "I'm ok." I assure him. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

I nod. "Yes."

"How…sickening." Magnussen says as he stands up. "A true disappointment Sherlock Holmes. You were actually weak enough to get involved with a woman and better still, you actually fall in love with her."

"Shut up." John spits at him. "How…dare you…call that sickening? That," he points at the blank screen. "was…horrendous, sickening." John points at Sherlock and I. "These two, it's….one of the most beautiful things that I've…ever been privileged to see when they're together. How could you," he looks towards us. "why didn't you tell us!?"

"I-I don't…remember John….any of it." I wipe my eyes as I look down at the floor. "Sherlock…succeeded, in erasing my memories of that incident."

"Don't make excuses for this….. diseased filth, Tammy. Don't."

"I'm not a murderer ... unlike your wife." John stares at him grimly, anger barely controlled. He holds his gaze for a while, and then glances across to Sherlock and I. Magnussen walks over towards the wall. "Let me explain how leverage works, Doctor Watson." Reaching the wall, he puts one finger on it at the side of the projected footage. There's a beep and as Magnussen slides his finger across the glass, the footage slides disappears to the side. He turns back towards us. "For those who understand these things, Mycroft Holmes is the most powerful man in the country. Well ... apart from me." I roll my eyes as the side of Sherlock's mouth lifts in a small smile. "Mycroft's pressure point is his junkie detective brother, Sherlock." I stiffen at his words. Sherlock squeezes my hand comfortingly. "He walks back across the room to the sofa. "And Sherlock's pressure point is his wife and his best friend, John Watson. John Watson's pressure point is his wife. I own John Watson's wife." He looks at Sherlock. "I own Mycroft." He sits down beside me. "He's what I'm getting for Christmas."

He holds out his hand towards Sherlock for the laptop. Without looking at him, Sherlock shoves it across the sofa towards him. "It's an exchange, not a gift."

He stands up, while Magnussen raises his eyebrows at him. Sherlock walks a few paces forward while Magnussen picks up the laptop. "Forgive me, but I already seem to have it."

"Its password protected." Sherlock points out. "In return for the password, you will give me any material in your possession pertaining to the woman I know as Mary Watson."

"Oh, she's bad, that one, so many dead people." He looks towards John. "You should see what I've seen."

John is firm. "I don't need to see it."

"You might enjoy it, though." John swallows but somehow manages to hold Magnussen's gaze. "I enjoy it."

John and I aren't surprised by his words. Sherlock pulls me up from the couch, away from Magnussen. "Then why don't you show us?"

"Show you Appledore?"

He puts the laptop onto the sofa beside him, and then looks at Sherlock. "The secret vaults? Is that what you want?"

Sherlock's tone becomes intense, informing him that he's in control now. "I want everything you've got on Mary."

Magnussen lets out a short laugh, shaking his head a little as he chuckles for a few seconds. John's mouth twists and he shoots a brief glance towards Sherlock. Sherlock is holding Magnussen's gaze. Eventually Magnussen stops his snickering and looks down to the laptop. "You know, I honestly expected something good."

"Oh," Sherlock says a little impatiently. "I think you'll find the contents of that laptop-

"Include a GPS locator." My face remains emotionless, but my heart has jumped. "By now, your brother will have noticed the theft, and security services will be converging on this house. Having arrived, they'll find top secret information in my hands," he reaches for his glass of whiskey. "and have every justification to search my vaults. They will discover further information of this kind and I'll be imprisoned. You will be exonerated, and restored to your smelly little apartment to solve crimes with Mr. and Mrs. Psychopath." He looks at John. "And…we'll have to think of something to call you." He lifts the glass to his mouth. "Mycroft has been looking for this opportunity for a long time. He'll be a very, very proud big brother."

"The fact that you know it's going to happen isn't going to stop it."

Magnussen puts his glass down on the table. "Then why am I smiling?" He looks up at Sherlock and smiles a little. "Ask me."

John asks, because he knows Sherlock won't answer. "Why are you smiling?"

Magnussen looks down at the ground. "Because Sherlock Holmes has made one enormous mistake, which will destroy the lives of everyone he loves," he looks up at Sherlock. "and everything he holds dear." He stands up slowly. "Let me show you the Appledore vaults."

I hold my breath as he leads us across the room, through the study up to some wooden doors at the side of the room. "The entrance to my vaults. This is where I keep you all."

He pulls the doors open. We look inside to find a blinding, white room with only leather, executive chair in it. I glance at Sherlock; his eyes are scanning the room before turning his gaze back to Magnussen. I know in my heart that something is wrong we must have missed something, but what?

"Okay," John asks the question that is on everyone's mind. "so where are the vaults, then?"

"Vaults? What vaults? There are no vaults beneath this building." Magnussen sits in his chair as he gestures around the room. "They're all in here." John frowns and blinks. Sherlock's eyes are wide as the truth hits him. Magnussen touches his temple, and I understand. "The Appledore vaults are my Mind Palace. You know about Mind Palaces, don't you, Sherlock?" Sherlock swallows but won't respond to him. "How to store information so you never forget it, by picturing it. I just sit here, I close my eyes," he does so, slowly lowering his head. "and down I go to my vaults. I can go anywhere inside my vaults... my memories. I'll look at the files on Mrs. Watson." I glance up at Sherlock as he closes his eyes and shakes his head a little. John stares at Magnussen as he raises both his hands to act as if he's working his way through the files inside an imaginary drawer. "This is one of my favorites. Oh, it's so exciting. All those wet jobs for the CIA." I bite my lip as I realize how badly we've fallen into a trap, and it's a very incriminating trap as well. "She's gone a bit ... freelance now. Bad girl." He turns an imaginary page and sniggers. "Ohh!" I bit my lip and glance at John. His face is once again, wearing the noble brow of the soldier, holding back his anger "Ah, she is so wicked. I can really see why you like her." He finally pushes the imaginary drawer closed again. He opens his eyes and looks at Sherlock. "You see?"

John clears his throat. "So there are no documents. You don't actually have anything here."

"Oh, sometimes I send out for something," he looks down at his watch. "if I really need it ...but mostly I just remember it all."

John shakes his head. "I don't understand."

"You should have that on a T-shirt."

John frowns. "You just remember it all?"

Magnussen turns his attention to Sherlock. "It's all about knowledge. Everything is, knowing is owning."

"But if you just know it, then you don't have proof."

"Proof? What would I need proof for?" he rolls his eyes. "I'm in news, you moron. I don't have to prove it; I just have to print it." Sherlock's gaze is lowered and I begin to wonder just how badly he's miscalculated out situation. Magnussen stands up and buttons his jacket. "Speaking of news, you'll both be heavily featured tomorrow, trying to sell state secrets to me." He looks at his watch again. "Let's go outside. They'll be here shortly." He walks out of the room and heads towards the huge glass doors. "Can't wait to see you arrested."

John watches him go then steps closer to Sherlock to whisper quietly. "Sherlock, do we have a plan?" Sherlock is fixed in place, looking down towards at the floor, his gaze is unfocused. "Sherlock?"

Sherlock still doesn't move, nor turn a hair at the sound of John's stern tone. He just stands there. I shake my head. "No John," I whisper. "not yet." John turns and walks away as Sherlock shuts his eyes, closing them tightly. I reach up and kiss the corner of his mouth. "Think on it. You can do it Sherlock; you can get us out of this mess."

"I can't."

I shake my head. "You can. I know _you_," he looks at me, taking in my confidence. "do whatever you have to do to turn the tables on Magnussen."

I turn and walk away. "Where are you going?"

"To John. You can concentrate better without me."

"Be careful."

"No one is going to hurt me, you're here and they're not going to risk your anger."


	53. 53: Not a hero!

Chapter fifty-three

Not a hero!

The sky is darkening as I walk out onto the patio. John and Magnussen are out onto the patio. I stand there, breathing in the refreshing night air. I'm not panicking, for some silly reason. I'm calm, in a depressed sort of way.

"They're taking their time," Magnussen's voice breaks the peaceful tranquility of the moment. "aren't they?"

John stands beside him, not bothering to look at him. "I still don't understand."

"And there's the back of the T-shirt."

John looks at Magnussen. "You just know things. How does that work?"

Magnussen faces John. "I just love your little soldier face. I'd like to punch it." John stares at him, his eyes wide.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and I jump, spinning around to see Sherlock standing behind me. I gasp, clutching my heart. "You move so quiet."

"Bring it over here a minute." John glances over to Sherlock. "Come on." Sherlock gives John a curt nod, his eyes downcast. He can't even look John and i. "For Mary. Bring me your face." John slowly takes a few steps closer to him. Magnussen smirks as he studies John. "Lean forward a bit and stick your face out." John clears his throat but doesn't move. "Please?" John inhales deeply, leaning forward as instructed. "Now, can I flick it?" John snorts in disbelief. "Can I flick your face?"

I stare at him in shock. "I can't believe this."

John leans forward as Magnussen flicks his fingers against John's cheek. John blinks instinctively as Magnussen flicks his cheek again. He chuckles. "I just love doing this. I could do it all day. It works like this, John. I know who Mary hurt and killed." He flicks John's cheek again. "I know where to find people who hate her."

He flicks John's face twice more. I watch as the soldier in John stares back at Magnussen, tolerating it only because he has no choice. For a second, it's a wondrous sight. The evil in Magnussen must hate the sight of ultimate goodness and courage reflecting in John's face.

"I know where they live; I know their phone numbers." He flicks him twice more. "All in my Mind Palace, all of it." Sherlock's gaze becomes more intense as Magnussen taunts John. "I could phone them right now and tear your whole life down, and I will ...unless you let me flick your face." He flicks him three times. Sherlock continues to glare at him. "This is what I do to people. This is what I do to whole countries," he flicks him again. "just because I know. Can I do your eye now?"

"Enough." I bite out. "Just…stop it."

Magnussen ignores me. "See if you can keep it open, hmm?" He flicks John's eyebrow. John's eye instinctively closes. Magnussen sniggers and flicks his eyebrow again. "Come on, for Mary, keep it open."

John looks towards us. "Sherlock?"

"Let him, I'm sorry." Sherlock's tone is quiet and sorry. "Just ... let him."

John turns back to Magnussen. "Come on, eye open." With an amused look on his face, he flicks John's eyebrow again. He laughs as John breathes harshly. "It's difficult, isn't it? Janine managed it once." He looks towards Sherlock and i. "She makes the funniest noises" he studies me, I cannot suppress a shiver as he gazes at me from head to toe. "You come here."

I jump slightly and I look at Sherlock. He shakes his head slightly as I turn back and face Magnussen. I square my shoulders and hold his gaze as I say firmly. "No."

His brow arches. "She's disobedient."

"I'm an American. I have free choice."

"I'm surprised he choice someone weak like you." He glowers at me. "Asthma, no family, no friends, you're nothing." I wrap my arms around my waist as continues talking. "You're weak. He should have gone with Irene Adler or Janine when he had the chance." I flinch against my will. He smirks. "I see. You must know that he was really in love with Adler. Janine has some similarities to her. He must really have been attracted to that woman."

I exhale. "Then he shouldn't have married me twice. That tells you that _I am _what he wanted."

"Really? Or are you a façade of everything that he thinks you are?" He looks at Sherlock. "I bet you didn't know she was molested at fifteen?" The blood leaks out of my face. How did he know that?! My face grows white and my stomach swirls madly. "Possibly her reason for holding you at arms length until your wedding day?" Magnussen smirks. "Surprised? I can find out anything. They never found the man responsible."

I can't look at Sherlock. I can't. I didn't want him to know that about me. "I knew about it." I spin around to look at him in complete shock. "I know things like she had glass pulled out of her eye from when her father threw a glass at her aunt during a family argument." The sincere look in his eyes and his calm tone assure me that he is telling me the truth.

"What…how…did you know?"

"I had Mycroft do a thorough background check on you a few days after we met. The first moment I realized that I was in danger of loosing my heart to you, I wanted to make sure you were worth it."

"I-I," I shake my head in despair. "why do you always…have to surprise me like this? What…else do you know about me?"

"A few things, things I'll never bring up." My mouth drops open as he quotes my exact words to him from at John's wedding. "I'll keep them close to my heart. They're safe there."

The sound of an approaching helicopter distracts me. I look up as it soars over the roof and notice armed police marksmen run towards the patio. The helicopter hovers some yards away, its spotlight aimed towards the patio.

Mycroft's voice blares out over a speaker on the helicopter. "Sherlock Holmes, Tammy Holmes and John Watson. "Stand away from that man."

Sherlock looks away as Magnussen looks towards him with glee. "Here we go, Mr. Holmes!"

Sherlock shouts over the noise of the helicopter. He steps forward, towards John. "To clarify….Appledore's vaults only exist in your mind, nowhere else, just there?"

Magnussen is looking towards the helicopter, not focusing on Sherlock. "They're not real. They never have been."

Sherlock nods as Mycroft repeats his demands over the speaker. "Sherlock Holmes, Tammy Holmes and John Watson. Step away."

Magnussen takes a couple of steps forward, waving his hands calmly at the helicopter. "It's fine!" He shouts loudly. "They're harmless!"

John looks at Sherlock. "Sherlock, what do we do?"

Magnussen speaks over his shoulder. "Nothing!" He looks at us. "There's nothing to be done! Oh, I'm not a villain. I have no evil plan. I'm a businessman, acquiring assets. You happen to be one of them!" Sherlock turns his head and looks at me; his gaze is penetrating and intense. "Sorry. No chance for you to be a hero this time, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock looks away from John, before looking at me, his gaze is determined. Sherlock pulls me close and kisses me. My heart jumps, it's almost like a farewell kiss. Magnussen turns away from us. "I'm sorry."

I stare at him as Mycroft repeats his demands. "Sherlock Holmes, Tammy Holmes and John Watson, stand away from that man. Do it now."

Sherlock squeezes my hand before shouting loudly. "Oh, do your research." He steps closer to John, reaches into John's coat pocket, pulls out the gun, and then steps towards Magnussen, his hand behind his back concealing the gun. "I'm not a hero!" Magnussen turns to look at him. "I'm a high-functioning sociopath." His eyes flash as he states. "Merry Christmas!"

He raises John's pistol, aims it at Magnussen's head and fires. John recoils and even before Magnussen hits the ground, Sherlock drops the gun to the patio and turns towards the helicopter, raising his hands. "Get away from me, Tammy, John!" He shouts loudly. "Stay well back!"

John is in total shock as he shouts. "Christ, Sherlock!" He raises his hands.

Mycroft shouts frantically into his microphone. "Stand fire!" The police marksmen run towards the patio, aiming their rifles at Sherlock. I immediately step in beside him, my hands raised as well. "Do not fire on Sherlock Holmes! Do not fire! Do not fire on Tammy Holmes."

Sherlock's head whips around and he stares at me in shock. "What are you doing? Get away from me!"

I grab ahold of his hand, locking our hands together. "No!" The marksmen aim their laser sights towards Sherlock. "I am not leaving you!"

"Tammy!"

"No. For better or worse! Remember?"

Sherlock frowns at me, irritation in his eyes. "You're a damn fool."

"I know." I grip his hand tighter as I survey the situation around us. "It's like being with Moriarty again isn't it?"

"Oh, Christ," John groans from behind us. "Sherlock."

Keeping our hands raised Sherlock looks towards him. "Give my love to Mary." John stares at us, his face full of anguish. "Tell her she's safe now."

Sherlock kneels on the patio, his hands raised and his face full of anguish. The beams from the laser sights travel over his face as he looks over at me, kneeling down beside him. "I'm sorry. There was no other way."

"I know. But…what other choice did you have?"

Sherlock exhales deeply. "I'm sorry."

I smile sadly at him. "I love you….you idiot." He laughs tightly. "Now, just hold onto my hand as we get ready to approach this storm."

Sherlock squeezes my hand tighter. "I won't always be here to help you weather the storms."

I nod. "It's a good thing I've had some practice in advance then."

He shakes his head. "John's right. You are insane." I smirk as the tears run down my cheek. "Don't cry Tammy."

"I'm not really crying. I know…you say you're not a hero Sherlock, but you are. But you need to know...you're my hero; you'll always be my hero. Don't you ever forget that."


	54. 54: I'll never say goodbye

Chapter fifty-four

I'll never say goodbye

It was a full week before Mycroft gave me any news about Sherlock. And when he did, all he told me was that Sherlock was leaving for a mission that was serving as an alternative for his jail sentence. That's all I knew. We were all piled into a black car and driven out to a private jet field. I saw Sherlock talking with John as our car pulled up. My heart leapt with joy at the sight of him. Sherlock and Linda began screaming happily at the sight of him, waking up Scott and Alexander.

I groan. "Quiet. Your Daddy's talking to Uncle John. You have to wait your turn."

I get out of the car and Sherlock and my eyes meet, his intense gaze effectively pins me there for a moment. Then, I begin setting up the stroller so I can place Alexander and Scott inside it. Linda and Sherlock impatiently bounce, waiting for him to finish their conversation.

"John, there's something ... I should say," Sherlock says. "I-I've meant to say always and then never have. Since it's unlikely we'll ever meet again, I might as well say it now." He hesitates for a long time, before admitting. "Sherlock is actually a girl's name."

John turns away, laughing silently as Sherlock smiles at him. John turns back, still smiling. "It's not."

Sherlock shrugs. "It was worth a try."

"We're not naming our daughter after you."

"I think it could work. After all, Tammy gave our son your middle name." John grimaces slightly. I watch as they hold eye contact for a long time. After a moment, Sherlock takes off his glove and holds out his hand. "To the very best of times, John." John hesitates before shaking John's hand. They stand there for a couple of seconds, silently communicating. Sherlock looks at me before turning back to John. "Look out for her, please. She is strong, but she's actually a lot more fragile than she looks."

John nods. "Mary and I will be there for her."

Sherlock releases his hand before turning and walking towards me. Linda and Sherlock run at him with a loud scream. They know he's leaving, but they don't know there's a possibility that he won't be coming back. But then, they're his children, they know things. I shiver as he kneels down, hugs and kisses them. It breaks my heart to see my children crying to see that he's leaving. I look over his shoulder at Mycroft, who for once, is moved by the display of human emotions.

"Both of you…be good. Obey your mother, help her when you can. Can you do that?" Linda and Sherlock nod through their tears. Alexander and Scott start wailing loudly as Sherlock hugs Linda and Sherlock one more time. "Be good. I love you both."

Sherlock straightens up and lock eyes with me. John calls Linda and Sherlock over to him as Sherlock and I stand there, not saying anything for a long time. He walks over to the stroller, memorizing Alexander and Scott at this moment. "What song Tammy?" I blink in confusion as he straightens up and looks at me. "There's always a song for a moment like this."

I bite my lip. "I can't think of one."

"Try it." He steps towards me. "Sing one last song, for me."

My heart is pounding in my chest. "I don't…think I can."

"Please, fill my head with that voice of yours before I go." I cave as Sherlock pulls me into dance position. "And I must have the last dance with you."

I nod as I close my eyes. I inhale, drawing on some unknown inner strength. _Say goodbye? _My voice is stronger than I anticipated._ Why I can barely say goodnight! If I can hardly take my eyes from yours, how far could I go? _I open my eyes and rest my head on his shoulder. _Walk away? The thought would never cross my mind. _I shake my head in agreement._ I'd sooner turn my back on spring, or fall, your smile least of all. _I run my hand up his shoulder to twine my fingers into his familiar curls._ When I say always, I mean forever. I trust tomorrow as much as today. _Sherlock stops dancing with me and looks into my eyes. _I'm not afraid to say 'I love you' and I promise you, I'll never say goodbye. _

There is more to the song, but I can't sing anymore. Sherlock brushes my hair back from face, before he turns and looks towards Mycroft. "Can we borrow your car for a minute?"

"Sherlock," Mycroft looks appalled. "there isn't time for you two to-

"I want a minute of privacy with my wife." He snaps in irritation. "I want to be able to kiss her face off without all eyes watching."

I flush red as Mycroft looks at us solemnly. He exhales. "I can't, I'm bending the rules as it is, I'm sorry."

"Fine." Sherlock exhales as he turns back towards me. "I'm going to have to do this in public."

I gasp as Sherlock kisses me violently. I throw my arms around me as his hands grab me around the hips, pulling him against me. I groan and cling to him tightly; each kiss is deep and passionate. Soon, my lips aren't enough; his lips are attacking my face, marking every spot on my face. I gasp for air against my tears and his lips. I feel his hands, under my jacket, on my bare skin. I shudder as I stumble back a few steps, thumping my back against the side of the black car.

Sherlock keeps me pinned there, raised on my toes, his hands gripping my hips firmly. For a few seconds, it's really hard to fight for control, but we are somehow able to find it. Sherlock breaks the kiss and studies my face. We're both breathing heavily and holding onto each other tight. "Are you all right?"

I shake my head. "Yes."

"Anything hurt?"

"No. Just my heart."

Sherlock smiles at me, brushing my hair back from my face. "This is the position I'd have like to have had you in… Mrs. Holmes, on your back of course."

I grip his coat. "I'll have to wait for you to get me into that position sometime soon Mr. Holmes."

"I will." Sherlock pulls me against him in a hug, so I can't see his face. "I shall have you under me again very soon."

I shake my head. "You always say such things."

"And you love them."

"Because I love you."

"And I love you too." Sherlock reaches into his pocket and presses his old phone into my hand. "I almost forgot this. I made a video on there for you. Don't watch it…until I'm gone."

I nod. "Ok."

He tilts my chin up. "Promise?"

I swallow hard. "I promise."

"Now…when I'm gone, I'd like you to do something for yourself, occupy your mind."

"I can't, you're going to take up a huge portion of my mind."

Sherlock exhales. "Tammy, borrowing some words from Mozart, will you honor these four requests I make of you?"

"Yes, I'll try. What are they?"

"First, that you will not be melancholy." I roll my eyes. "A big request, I know, you're overly dramatic at times, but I know that you've got what it takes to find the strength to be strong. Second, that you will take care of yourself, not expose yourself to the cold and the night air. Third, that you will never, ever, go out walking alone, it is better that you not walk at all than go out alone. And finally, that you will feel deeply assured of my love for you."

I nod. "I can do those. I will."

"Sherlock?" Mycroft says behind him. "You really must go."

I inhale noisily and Sherlock turns around. "Don't say goodbye Tammy," I hate it when he does this, putting on a brave front for me. "I will see you again."

I nod. We're lying. We're both lying to each other and we know it.

He kisses me on the forehead before turning to Mycroft. "Keep an eye on her; give her some news now and again, if possible. But _do not _try to claim her." He holds Mycroft's stare, giving no one any doubt for the depth of his love for me. "I've touched, kissed and tasted every inch of that woman's body and she is _mine_. She will always be mine."

Mycroft smiles tightly. "Understood."

He turns towards me, smiles briefly at me, and then he turns to walk towards the airplane. He's almost on it when my emotions snap and I call his name. "Sherlock!"

He spins around, his arms outstretched for me as I run and jump into his arms. He kisses me and I hold onto him tightly, holding him for what could be the last time. My heart pounds in my throat as I fight to hold some control over the last few precious seconds Sherlock and I have together. Slowly, so slowly, he lets my feet touch the ground. I hold back the tears as he pulls away me.

He kisses me once, sweetly. "I'll see you when I get back, Mrs. Holmes."

I shudder. "Just…come back Mr. Holmes...that's all I ask."

He nods. "I will." He runs his hand down my cheek. "I'll always come back to you. I've cheated death twice…I can cheat it again." I exhale and bury my face in his chest, memorizing his scent. "You can cry Tammy."

I shake my head. "No. I-I don't want…it to be like this. I don't…want you to remember me like this."

He smiles. "I will remember you like this. Go ahead and cry, I've got a million miles of memories, this will just be one more." I feel hands on my shoulders as Sherlock releases me. "Keep an eye on her John. Don't let Mycroft make her too miserable."

John clears his throat. "I will Sherlock, you can depend on me."

Sherlock turns, walks into the plane, and I watch him as the door closes. I can't help but wonder if I'll ever see him again.


	55. 55: The search is through

Chapter fifty-five

The search is through

The plane taxis along the runway. I can see Sherlock looking out of the windows, his face sad, but his jaw set. I stand there, strong as possible, watching as the plane lifts into the sky. Sherlock continues to gaze out of the window at us until I can no longer see his face as the plane has flown off into the distance.

I look at his phone and exhale. "Tammy," Mycroft says. "I'd like to get going."

I shake my head. "Sherlock left me a video on here. I told him I wouldn't watch it until he was gone. Well, he's gone now. I'd like to see it."

I begin browsing through the phone as John and Mary stand close by, trying not to appear too obvious.

"What'd he leave you?"

"A video. I don't know what though."

I find a new video titled 'the search is through,' so I click on it. It starts off with Sherlock smiling at the camera. _Hello Tammy, I know you think I zone off during most of those ancient movies you force me to watch, truth is I don't. One of your movies can't remember which at the moment had a song that really reflects my thoughts on you. So, this song is my song for you, my dearest wife. I love you._

"Good God," Mycroft mutters. "he actually said that?"

"Shut up Mycroft." John hisses. "Now."

The video turns into a family photo, shortly before Scott and Alexander were born. _The flaxen hair, the tender voice, laughing eyes, gave me no choice._ I shake my head as I view the photos of Sherlock and my history is together. I recognized the song. 'The search is through' from 'The country girl' sung by Bing Crosby. _No more the doubts I used to face. No more the doubt, no more the chase. _

_The search is through; you've got what it takes._ The picture changes to Sherlock giving me a thumb up, obviously taken while he was in prison.

I shake my head. "Oh, you darling idiot." Mycroft, John and Mary smile at the pictures.

"These are lovely." Mary observes. "I haven't seen most of these."

I shake my head. "He takes them when I'm not looking."

"They're good." John says in admiration. "You can see that he's captured a special moment that he wants to remember."

_There was no passing you by. In my 'Who's Who' you've got what it takes. The who, the where, the when, the why. One look and oh, no painting I know,_ I flush red at the sight of me in bed on our second wedding morning. I was sound asleep, completely naked except for a rose that was resting on my back. I pull the phone to my chest. _can equal your loveliness, head to toe. _

"I'm sorry." I shake my head in embarrassment. "He always does that; I'll probably find dozens of new ones on this phone."

Mycroft makes a face. "My brother, the married pervert."

"Actually," Mary says gently. "that was rather... tastefully taken."

John clears his throat. "I'm not going to say anything."

_At last, the breaks, you've got what it takes. So easy to see, for all time to be, you've got what it takes, to take me._

The video ends and I begin crying. My tears set all the children off.

Mycroft exhales in impatience. "Well, mother wants me to bring you home. Do try to keep the noise down please?"

"Tell the children that." I say as I wipe my eyes. "Tell them that they're going to be orphans in six months' time." Mycroft flinches. "At least they got to say goodbye to their father this time."

John frowns. "What are you saying?"

I clear my throat. "He's not coming back John. Unless some miracle happens that brings him back here."

"I-I don't understand." John shakes his head. "What are you saying?"

I glare at Mycroft. "He's going on an assignment that Mycroft predicts within sixth months...I'm not even going to say it. I don't want to tempt fate."

John and Mary wrap their arms around me as Mycroft's phone rings. He glances at it. "Excuse me."

He steps inside the car. The moment the door closes, I lapse into the tears that I've been holding back as long as I could. The sobs shake free and I hold onto John and Mary for the strength that I so desperately need.

"Mommy?" I look down at Linda and Sherlock, both looking up at me in concern. Linda places her sticky, wet hand on mine. "You miss Daddy?"

I kneel down. "Yes." I sniffle and wipe my eyes. "Yes, I do."

"He'll be back." Sherlock says confidentially. "He loves you. He come back."

I shake my head and hug him. "Oh, how'd you get to be so wise at this age?"

"But that's not possible." I look over to Mycroft, who's getting out of his car, his face, actually has shock written on it. "That is simply not possible."

My phone goes off and I answer it. "Hello?"

_Hello Tammy._ My blood runs cold at the sound of the voice on the line. _Did you miss me? _I almost drop my phone at the sound of Moriarty's voice. But my first move is to pull out the battery, killing the voice. I jump out of the car and look up at the sky where Sherlock's plane is out of sight.

I exhale. "If there was ever a time where I need you Sherlock, this is it."

"Mommy?" Sherlock looks up at me. "Are you ok?"

"Tammy?" Mary asks. "What is it?"

I gasp. "It's...him...John. He's back."

"Who?"

"Moriarty." I turn to John as my stomach churns. "He's alive."

John's mouth drops open. "Impossible."

I shake my head. "No. He's alive. I _know _that voice! He's alive!"

Mary looks at John, in surprise. "But he's dead. I mean, you told me he was dead, Moriarty."

"Absolutely." John says. "He blew his own brains out."

Mary asks. "So how can he be back?"

"Anything is possible, I'd know." I rub my hands together. "I saw Sherlock jump off a roof and he surfaced two years later." I groan. "Oh and he's not going to be here for me anymore!"

John looks upwards. "Well, if he is ... he'd better wrap up warm. There's an East Wind coming."

I look up to see Sherlock's plane coming in to land. Sherlock and Linda begin screaming. "Daddy's back! Daddy's back!"

My legs can't hold me up and my feet buckle immediately. John catches me. "Easy. Easy. That was a lot of pressure you've put up with in these past fifteen minutes."

I nod. "I know. Breathe, just breathe."

"You're getting good at this." John chuckles. "You can handle this."

The moment the plane comes to a stop, the door flies open and Sherlock jumps out. I begin crying tears of relief as I watch Linda and Sherlock run up to their father. He picks them up and hugs them tightly.

John pulls me up from the ground. "Go on. He's going to be here for you through this ordeal this time. Now, go greet your husband."

I look up as Sherlock and I make direct eye contact. He's the first to make a move and he runs for me. I hold out my arms as he catches me and spins me around.

I can't hold the tears back anymore and I begin crying. Sherlock as always, has a sarcastic comment. "Do stop crying, I was only gone four minutes."

"Separation...is another word death. As for it being four minutes, it might as well have been four hours."

"Stop crying Tammy." he wipes my eyes and kisses me on the forehead. "Now, where's my Christmas present?"

I begin crying harder and grip his shoulders. "Oh stop it! Just let me cry."

"Well, do try to put a cork in it. You're crying, Linda, Sherlock, Alexander and Scott are crying. I feel as if I'm leading a crying parade!"

I sniffle deeply, inhale a few times and croak. "Ok, I'm fine."

"Good." He wraps his arm around my waist. "Shall we go home?"

I nod. "Yes."

"Good." He picks me up, bridal fashion. "Let's go then!"

"Idiot."

"Shut up." He whispers in my ear. "I am going to kiss your face off as soon as we're in the car."

"The children." I remind him.

"Fine. I'll kiss your face off as soon as we're alone."

"I can hardly wait. But we have to be careful," I remind him. "I don't want to wind up pregnant with Moriarty around."

Sherlock shrugs. "Then we're going to have a problem."

"Why?"

"Because I intend to get you pregnant so you have to stay hidden."

"Not going to happen Sherlock."

"Want to bet?"

I nod. "Yes!"

"You're going to lose, because after tonight, you're going to be pregnant."


	56. 56: There for me

Chapter Fifty-Six

There for me

I looked outside the window, arms wrapped around my waist as I inhaled deeply. I pushed the window open and breathed in the air. I was fighting so many emotions. Fear and relief were the main emotions that were running through my body.

"You shouldn't be breathing in the night air." Sherlock says from behind me. I glance at him; he's wearing only his pajama pants. "You promised you wouldn't breathe in the night air."

I exhale as he pulls the window shut. "Sorry. It's just…such a beautiful night."

Sherlock presses a kiss on my neck. "In spite of the fact that it's pouring rain, it is isn't it? You doing ok?"

I nod. "Yes, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I' m just….so glad you're back now."

He grips my waist tighter. "I'm glad to be here. Did you like your Christmas present?"

I smile. "Sherlock…I loved it. That was a beautiful bracelet. " It was a bracelet with photos of him and the children. It was my most loved piece of jewelry of all. I wrap his arms around his neck and kiss him. "Thank you." He nips my lip and I pull away. "Wait."

"You started this whole kiss session."

"I'd like to tell you what your present is before I lose my nerve. It's at your parents now." I inhale and blurt out. "I bought you…a dog." His brows arch. "A male, Irish Setter puppy."

He studies me carefully. "Why? To replace Redbeard?"

I shake my head. "No. no one can ever replace anything that's dear to our hearts. I-I just thought that maybe…you could make some memories. If…you don't want the dog, that's fine, I got him on a trial period. They'll take him back if you don't want him."

Sherlock kisses me and I relax just a little. He smiles as he strokes my chin. "Just…give me time. If it doesn't work out for me, maybe Linda and Sherlock would want him."

I exhale in relief. "Thank goodness."

He takes my hand and turns towards the bed. "Shall we?"

"Yes. Are you going to make this a memorable night for me Mr. Holmes?"

"I thought I made every night memorable for you, Mrs. Holmes."

"Oh, I love it when you use my married name."

He smiles. "I love using it, because it means you're mine."

"I love that you're so possessive."

"Now," he releases my hand and takes a few steps back. "why don't you just step on out of that robe? I haven't had or seen you for almost a week." I let my robe fall from my shoulders. I wasn't wearing a nightdress underneath, I'd put on a white, silk, full length slip. He nods approvingly. "You look beautiful. Deliciously sexy."

I roll my eyes. "I am not. I've had four children. I'm anything _but _sexy. But…I love it when you say things like that to me."

"Trust me; those children have definitely made you sexier. Now…Mrs. Holmes…strip."

The blood rushes immediately to my face. "Oh, that was dirty."

"But you're going to do it, aren't you?" My hands shake slightly as I pull the slip over my head and I let it fall to the floor. Sherlock nods approvingly. "Get on the bed."

I crawl onto the bed, lying on my back. "Don't think you can get away with ordering me around. Tonight's special."

"I always have my way with you, as far as these situations go." He gets onto the bed, slowly lowering his weight onto me. He moves forward and kisses me. "Now," he breathes against my lips. "you have to be silent, or you'll wake the children." I nod as he smothers me in a kiss. However, this whole moment is ruined by one of the twins let out a wail, the other one wakes up and lets out an equally loud wail. Sherlock groans and rests his head in the center of my chest. "This…is not happening to me."

I run my hands through his hair. "So sorry. Some other time perhaps, now, let me up."

"Fine." I swing my feet off the bed, pick up my nightdress and pull it over my head. "Do you know what I am going to do to you one of these nights?"

"No. But…why don't you tell me?"

"I am going to," his voice drops into that jaguar pitch of his, causing me to tremble. "make love to you, on the roof, under the stars, one summer night."

"That does sound lovely." I take his hand and we move towards the curtain. "But I doubt that we're going to be able to do anything like that any time soon." He draws the curtain back and I reach for Alexander as he reaches for Scott. "But," I coo softly as I sway Alexander gently. "if you get me pregnant, we won't be able to do anything like that for a while."

"And, not to mention if you're pregnant, you won't be running around in dangerous situations."

I turn and walk towards the window. "I'm not an idiot Sherlock. I know when not to risk my neck"

"Good." He rubs my shoulder. "I'll be there for you this time Tammy. I won't let you down. I swear it."

I turn and look sideways at him. "I thought you don't make vows."

"I don't, unless it's one that I know that I can keep. This one, I can keep. I'll be there for you Mrs. Holmes."

I smile. "I believe in you Mr. Holmes."

A tap on the door causes us to turn towards it. "Mommy?" It's Linda, and she's been crying.

Sherlock moves to the door and opens it. He kneels down. "What is it princess?"

She sniffles before wailing. "I had a bad dream!"

Sherlock takes her hand and moves her towards the bed. "Come on. You can stay with Mommy and I tonight."

"It really sounds odd when you call me Mommy Sherlock."

"Well, you call me Daddy from time to time so it's equally odd for me." Sherlock Jr. comes into the room, his face a mask of confusion. But once he sees Linda in the bed, his confusion clears. He immediately crawls into the bed and Sherlock studies him. "Won't you come into my bed?" He exhales and looks at me. "This is soooo not what I had planned.

I sit on the edge of the bed and begin singing to Alexander. _There for me, every time I've been away. Will you be there for_ me, he stops fussing and begins gurgling quietly._ thinking of me every day? Are you my destiny? Words I've never dared to say. Will you be there for me? _ _Just think of you and me,_ I turn towards Sherlock and shoot him a secret smile. _We__ could never tow the line. _ _It's such a mystery, just to hear you say 'you're mine,' and while you're close to me. So close to me, just hold me. _

Music, was the most powerful instrument in the world. A song could make a person fall in love, hate desperately, create beauty, inspire someone, bring them to tears and crush them. Or, it was simply a powerful medicine to strengthen a broken soul to help them find gravity.

* * *

**The next part is on hold until Sherlock season 4 is ready. I'm all ready counting down the days! Now, I'm not going to be completely gone from the Sherlock fandom, I may write up a few little scenes involving Sherlock and Tammy. I will be writing a story loosely following the blue carbuncle. Like, who else but Tammy could buy a turkey and find a diamond inside it?**


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